Pure Intentions
by The Author's Mighty Pen
Summary: There is only one thing worse than dying in war. It's surviving on the losing side. John Bates ran away from the shame of his loss and sought his fortune in Hong Kong. What he did not seek, but what rather sought him, was Anna Smith.
1. Prologue: Peace Without Justice

He snorted himself awake, the crash of waves against the side of the ship lulling him back toward sleep in concert with the drum of the alcohol still wafting through his brain. With a groan he worked himself out of the hammock and put a hand over his head to support himself when the ship rocked again. Swallowing back the dryness and bile in his mouth he worked his way up the deck.

Pink tinges of dawn broke on the horizon and matched the lights of the port before them. He leaned on the railing, running his hand through his hair to try and get sensation to replace the whiskey on his brain, and barely noted the presence of someone near him. It was not until he raised his head to squint at the man he saw the uniform and groaned.

"I've noticed you've been avoiding me since India Captain Bates."

"And I thought you would've understood that meant I had no interest in talking with you, Colonel Carlisle, or anyone else in uniform."

"Your country needs men of your talent and skill to help us harness this barbarian landscape."

"I think we've done enough harnessing in enough places." Captain Bates pushed himself off the railing, "I've done my part and I'm done with it."

He went to walk away as Colonel Carlisle read aloud. "Captain John Bates, awarded the Victoria Cross and a battlefield commission for his work in the First Boer War. Served honorably in all battles and even saved the life of one Major Robert Crawley, fourth Earl of Grantham."

"He wasn't an Earl when I saved him, just my commanding officer."

"Doesn't mean you didn't impress quite a few people with your methods and tactics."

John swallowed, "I don't want anything to do with it."

"The war?"

"With any of it." John pointed toward the port with an open hand, "I've come to Hong Kong to be rid of all of that. I've washed my hands of the Empire and it's mad scratch for the every bit of land they see and want to plant their flag on."

"Is this because you lost your wife?"

He stopped, "Watch what you say sir."

"Many a soldier's found himself again in service to his country." Colonel Carlisle sniffed, "Though you found yours in drink."

"We've all got our vices." John snorted, "Yours is for other men's wives or don't think I don't know a thing or two about the new commander they're sending north toward Peking."

"We could keep an eye on one another if you were to come as well."

"I've got no interest in whatever rebellion they're brewing up in the north."

"We quashed that rebellion, or didn't you hear?"

"I heard an awful lot of Chinamen died trying to get their land back." John worked back toward the stairs to lead him below deck, "I won't be involved in killing natives anymore."

"Then what will you do?"

"Find a fortune or find peace, whichever comes quicker."


	2. Is a Low Estate

John woke up in a cold sweat, reaching for a bottle beside his bed but someone kicked it away. He scowled, "You'd best have a damn good reason for that Branson."

"You told me, last night, that you wanted to stop drinking and I'm supposed to help you do that." Branson pushed at John's shoulders, heaving him out of the bed. "We're not going to impress our clients if you smell like a distillery… especially like the cheap ones here."

"Who says I want to impress them?"

"Our landlord and the grocer who keeps waving our unpaid bills at me." Branson lifted John upright, leading him to a bucket full of water with a layer of ice on it. "Sorry it'll be cold but-"

John's fist broke the top of the ice and he dunked his head under the water. The silence and the cold combine to tempt him with the desire to stay where he heard nothing but the distant thrum of his heartbeat in his ears while also forcing his body to demand immediate release. He raised his head, gasping for air, and wiped at his face as he leaned over the bucket.

"Who's our first client?"

"Special request. Offered me money up front." Branson pushed a chair toward John and he slumped in it, the cold water still leaking from his hair to soak his nightshirt.

"Did you take it?"

"Yes and I paid our rent so we're good until next month."

"Who was it?"

"Wore a fancy uniform, that's all I know." Branson went to walk away but John grabbed his arm.

"What kind of uniform?"

"British, why?"

John groaned, "No, no, no, NO!"

"What?"

"We don't take mercenary work for the British government. How many times-"

"A lot but it's fine to have standards like that when we're actually pulling in money but between your drinking and you're wife's gambling habit-"

"Ex-wife."

"Then how's she still swindling money from you?" Branson waited but John could only rake a hand through his sopping hair. "And why'd she follow you all the way to Peking anyway?"

"I don't know and I really don't care." John stood, "What's the job?"

"He said he'd come by today to discuss it with you personally." Branson sniffed and then coughed, "I think you should take a bath first. Something to get that smell off you."

"I haven't decided if you're the best assistant or the worst." John pulled the nightshirt over his head and then dipped into the bath, shivering. "It's freezing!"

"It would've been warm if you'd been up on time."

John immersed himself, scrubbing furiously to get as clean as he could without having to stay long in the water. By the time Branson returned John toweled himself over and nodded at the bathwater. "Dumping it in the street again?"

"Actually made a deal for fresh vegetables if we give them the bathwater for irrigation." Branson winked and held up John's suit. "I think it's the best we're going to get for you until we have enough for a tailor."

"What about Zhang? He was impeccable."

"He's still impeccable but he also likes the idea of being paid for his efforts." Branson hung the suit from the low arch. "When we have money to pay him, he'll repair and refit anything you have."

"I like his gratitude for the help we gave him with those thugs menacing his store."

"It's not an eternal debt, John." Branson rolled his eyes, cleaning up the room a bit before pushing the screen to the side to expose the office space on the other side. "It does eventually reach the point where it's not acceptable to continue using a line on the same favor."

"And at what point do you decide you're not going to continue to stay here as my aide."

"When you stop calling me your aide." Branson stopped, turning to the knock on the door. "Are you ready?"

John held out his arms, "What do you think?"

"I think we need more money so you can wear a new suit."

John sighed, walking out of the room and pulling the screen back to leave the office as all their guest could see. He walked to his desk, sorting through the papers there to make a larger pile for their bills and a smaller one for their interested and potential clients. Branson's voice brought John's head up and he piled the offers to the side before walking around the desk.

But when he saw the man Branson led into the room, John's knuckles tightened. "What do you want?"

"That's no way to treat someone hoping to hire you." Carlisle pointed to a chair in front of John's desk. 'Might I sit? I've a bit to discuss with you and I don't want to keep us both on our feet."

"I don't think-"

"Please," Branson pulled the chair back, glaring at John. "We're very curious as to what this offer is."

Carlisle took his seat and John forced his legs to bend so he could take his chair, keeping the desk between them. They stared one another down a moment before Carlisle cleared his throat. "I think there's a bit of confusion between the two of us."

"There's no confusion." John shook his head, "I know what you've done and I'm not very interested in joining that particular crusade."

"I'm not asking you to join the crusade." Carlisle paused, "Though I do horribly disagree with the idea that you believe there's a crusade."

"Are you saying you're not slaughtering innocents in the streets?"

Carlisle smiled at him, "Even if that was true, then just know I wouldn't tell you since you refused to take the uniform again."

"I don't want any part of the oppression and destruction of these people."

"Is that what you believe we're doing here?"

"It's what I've seen you doing here." John sighed, "What do you want from us since we're not part of your ambitious death squads?"

"I need a pair of investigators who aren't working under me to do a bit of scouting."

"We're not in that line of work."

"It's investigating isn't it?"

John narrowed his eyes, "No, it's not."

"Then what is it, Captain?"

"It's your ploy to put us as your advanced agents somewhere you plan to pillage and burn until they succumb to your demands."

Carlisle barked out his laugh, "You make us sound like the devil."

"He's a bit more subtle."

"And I'm sure he wouldn't offer you the small fortune you'll make working for me."

"Doing what?" Branson interrupted, shooting a look at John to stop his argument. "What kind of investigation do you need from us?"

"The kind where I need you to travel to the Shan dong province."

Branson frowned, "What's in Shan Dong?"

"There is a supposed gathering of warlords there and they threaten the peace and security of our relationships with the Chinese people."

John snorted, "What relationships?"

Carlisle ignored him, "We need those who could find these warlords for us and identify them by name."

"Do you want us to ask them to pose for pictures as well?" John put his forehead in his hand, massaging at his temples. "What does it matter who they are? You'll just kill them all anyway."

"I think you underestimate the desires of the government in China."

"I wonder if there's a purpose to the government being here." John finally faced Carlisle. "What do you need to know about these warlords that you couldn't find by bribing them or burning their villages to the ground?"

"Were looking for the 'why'."

"I thought that was obvious." John went to say more but Branson kicked the desk.

"When do you need this information and what are our parameters?"

"I think-"

"We're not taking this case." John stood up, "I know you think this is necessary but perhaps you'd be better off talking to these men instead of trying to gain military intelligence on them so you can destroy them."

"I think you're underestimating our ability to adapt and collaborate."

"That's not your style, Colonel." John held Carlisle's gaze as they faced one another across the desk. "You're the kind who appreciates the destruction you cause."

"I don't think you know me at all."

"I know you very well. I've served under men like you and you don't change."

Carlisle scowled at John, "Your government needs you."

"And my government can sod off." John pulled a wad of bills from his pocketbook. "Take back your money and get out."

Carlisle looked at the money and then sniffed. "Keep it, Captain. It's a gift from Her Majesty for her loyal soldiers."

"I don't need your blood money."

"Anymore, Captain." Carlisle pivoted and walked toward the door, "You don't need it anymore."

Branson gaped at John, hurrying to help Carlisle out of the office. John sat down hard, almost knocking his chair out from under him, and put his face in his hands. He did not even lift his head when Branson knocked against the desk. It was not until Branson's hand slapped against his head that John looked up.

"Excuse you."

"Excuse me?" Branson scoffed, "What did you just do? He was our best chance to escape the crushing debt we've got hanging over our heads and you insulted him before all but booting his ass out the door."

"Obviously this bothers you." John sat back, holding the armrest of his chair. "But it's not about money, Branson."

"It's all about money, John." Branson's arms flung out from his sides. "We need to eat to live and we need money to pay for the food we eat."

"But we also have to live with ourselves, Branson." John stood up so fast he kicked his chair out to clatter against the wall. "I couldn't live with myself if I helped that man continue to water the streets of this country with blood."

"Then I guess we won't have to worry about it since we're not going to live long now." Branson shook his head, "What has he done to align you so vehemently against him?"

"I served in India, when he was there, and I heard about what he did. I watched men like him leave towns as ash and orphans weeping for their parents as he 'pacified' the population." John swallowed, "I won't aid in that any longer. I won't go back to it."

"Then it's nothing to do with the fact that Colonel Carlisle's enjoying the nighttime pleasures of your wife?"

"Ex-wife and I hope they do make one another as happy as they can before one or both of them inevitably fall to a VD." John reached for his jacket, holding up one of the requests. "And we've got other interests. We'll build back from the bottom with these."

"Those aren't going to make us any more than a local constable."

"But I'll sleep better at night knowing I contributed to someone's life in a way that mattered." John tried to say something else but just let his chest fall, "It's my conscience, Branson, and I've already spent too much of my life letting it be trampled under necessity or desperation."

Branson did not respond, just went over to his own desk and pulled a stack of papers toward him so he could file them. John closed his eyes, body slumping in place as if the weight of it all finally rested on his shoulders. Without another word, he left the office.

The streets bustled with rickshaws, shouting vendors, children running between legs and underfoot, and the constant bawl of life. John wove through the crush, standing a head- and sometimes head and shoulders- above those about him. Children and the elderly stared up at him like they could not believe he was real while others just wandered out of his way. All of it screamed of life and struggle and a kind of fervor John wondered if he had for himself any longer.

Up the street, John bent to check the address on the paper in his hand. As he looked up a gaggle of soldiers approached him. John peeked over his shoulder and watched the crowd around him disperse quickly, chattering in Mandarin and their home dialects to warn others to steer clear.

John sighed, tucking the request away, and opened his hands toward the tallest of the bunch. The officer had cold blue eyes, perfectly coifed hair, and an uncomfortable twitch to his mouth as he smiled that fixed the expression as a permanent leer. Stopping just short of John, the man stared him up and down with a crinkle to his nose.

"So this is the legendary Captain Bates is it?"

"Not sure I've the pleasure of your name so I'll chose not to answer that particular question." John pointed over the man's shoulder, "And I've an appointment so I'm sure you'll understand if I politely decline whatever it is that's got you and those around here stopped."

"I'm Lieutenant Thomas Barrow and I heard stories about you from the Boer War."

John bristled, "I'm sure you did."

"And Colonel Carlisle mentioned your attitude in India… something about saving the population." Barrow shrugged, "I guess he's fond of you but I don't know why. A broken down old war hero, like yourself, given over to desperation and drink when he can't save a few savages."

"I'd watch what you say when you're surrounding yourself with those…" John frowned, "Never mind. I amend my statement to say this, do as you like. I've washed my hands of the Empire and all its petty difficulties."

"But the Empire's not washed its hands of you, Mr. Bates."

"I'd have thought three years of me refusing the offers of reenlistment or another commission would tell the Empire what I think of that plan."

"Colonel Carlisle is persistent."

"So was my ex-wife but I separated from her and I'm sure I can do the same with the Empire and our dear Queen." John went to walk past Barrow but the other man stepped in his way. "This conversation is over, Lieutenant, so step aside."

"It's not over." Barrow nodded and, before John could move, two of the men with Barrow clapped irons over his wrists. The wrench on his shoulders had John flailing slightly but the men held him down. "Colonel Carlisle was insistent that we bring you to the garrison. Whether by your own will or ours it didn't matter."

"You can sod off too."

"We'll see about that." Barrow nodded at his men, "Take him away."


	3. A Coward Cringing

John twisted against his captors, trying to stop their progress but every time he dug in his heels the men knocked against his knees to trip him up enough to force forward movement. He stumbled toward the ground, dirt already caked up to his knees and flecks of mud and other street debris leaving stains on his trousers. Each time they hauled him up he bent with the knocks of their rifle butts to his side or his stomach.

They dragged him into the compound and John tried to wrest himself free from them to run for the gates before they closed. But they thumped shut and the men around him grabbed the back of his suit and hauled him toward the building. He struggled and kicked out until Lieutenant Barrow's gun butt landed with a solid thunk on his forehead.

Lolling in his their grip, John barely gripped consciousness as his feet and limps flopped uselessly up the stairs. They dropped him in a seat and his glazed eyes wandered the office around him. His whole body jerked when they doused his head in cold water. Jerking in place, John grabbed the arms of his chair and finally recognized Carlisle sitting across the desk from him.

"So pleased you could join us Captain Bates."

"Joined you?" He coughed, eyeing the office and noted the windows behind Carlisle. "That suggests there was an choice before your men grabbed me from the street."

"You refused the nicer of my offers."

"For good reason." John moved from the chair and jumped to the top of the desk to leap out the window.

It shattered around him as he dived through it. The glass clinked and fell about him like rain but John rolled off the slanted roof to land on the ground. He hit hard, jarring his shoulder, but scrambled to his feet and ran from the doors. An arm swung out of nowhere and knocked him in the throat, tossing him backward onto the ground.

John hauled in breath, the air exiting his lungs in a rush as he hit the ground hard. He crumpled a bit when a boot knocked into his stomach but rose to land a fist in the man's face. Holding an arm over his stomach he flailed out with another set of solid knuckles across the jaw of an ambitious soldier who then knocked into his fellow.

But John turned right into the waiting arms of four men who hauled him back up the stairs to Carlisle's office. They strapped John to the chair as he fought them and Carlisle came around his desk, folding his arms over his chest, and bent his head to look at John. "I want your help, Captain."

"And I said sod off." John leaned back in his chair and then forward to crack Carlisle's nose with his forehead.

Carlisle stumbled back, grabbing the desk as John tipped his chair forward for he stood on his feet and then jumped backward. He landed hard but the delicate chair shattered under him. His arms, still tied to the now broken handles, held them like batons and whirled them about to knock the two nearest soldiers across the jaw and throat.

One choked backward as the other tumbled into a wall. John brought the wooden arm around to pull the knot on his opposite hand to release the rope. It fell to the ground and he ducked to avoid the flying fist coming from another soldier who entered the room. John brought the piece of wood still strapped to his arm around and knocked the man's knees. He stumbled and John used his shoulder to flip the man to the ground.

When he went to stand something hit him in the back of the head and he hit the ground. He caught himself on the floor, trying to rise as his eyes watered and head swam, and felt the arms holding him tightly as they drew him to his feet.

"You are a born fighter Mr. Bates." Carlisle came forward, pressing a handkerchief to his bleeding nose and blinking tears from his eyes as they purpled.

"I'm Irish."

"I know." Carlisle tapped the top of his desk, a pile of papers shifting under his finger. "You served nobly in the Boer War and then again when you were in India. You received commendations for valor and bravery."

"They weren't mine to receive."

"Regardless, you got them anyway." Carlisle thumped his fist on the desk. "And that's the man we need."

"And I told you I'm not interested." John struggled against the hold. "I'm not fighting anyone's wars again, I'm not killing innocent people again, and I'm sure as hell not putting on a uniform for you or anyone else again."

"Then you'll pay the consequences of that choice." Carlisle checked his nose, pulling the handkerchief away to check the blood before tossing it to the desk. "I wonder if you'd feel the same when you and your aide are starving."

"Better to die on my feet than live on my knees or bent in shame."

"We'll see what you think after a few days on your knees." Carlisle nodded at the soldiers and they hauled him up. "This is your last chance to agree with any dignity."

"He's not got any of that left." Lieutenant Barrow sneered and John turned to him. "Not when he's living in a shithole with that other firecrotch and drinking himself until he smells like a distillery."

John narrowed his eyes as Barrow stepped closer. "What life at the bottom of the rung must feel like for you Mr. Bates. Failure rests heavily on your shoulders."

"Do you know, you've got the coldest eyes I've ever seen?" Barrow blinked and John nodded, "It's true. Besides my wife's eyes they're probably the deepest pools of despair and hopelessness I've ever experience."

"Why would I care about that?"

"So you know exactly why I don't feel any guilt about doing this." John's knee came up to strike hard between Barrow's legs. He dropped his head as he folded in two and John pulled down on the arms holding his own as he changed weight from his raised knee to his other leg to knock that knee into Barrow's nose.

Barrow dropped backward, his nose bent in a new direction and his eyes rolling in his head as he dropped into unconsciousness. John slipped free from one man and brought the blade of his hand around to cut into the man's throat. He choked, holding at his bruised larynx, and John rapid fired punches into the other man's gut to drive him away.

A crack to his leg stopped him and he fell sideways as weight handed heavily on his right leg. It popped and John hit the floor as black dotted his vision in time with the twisted agony of his leg. He tried to get up and examine it but another blow, this one to his temple, had him seeing only the backs of his eyelids.

* * *

John blinked to open his eyes and tried to move. His leg refused to shift and he held it with both hands as the pain lanced up from his knee. He gritted his teeth and moved his body to assess the damage.

"It's bad." John lifted his head to see Branson outside the bars of his cell. "They mangled it just about as well as you mangled all of them."

"How's the Colonel's nose?"

"Healing a right sight better than Lieutenant Barrow's." Branson sniggered, "It's got this bulbous note to it now and nothing the doctor's do will stop it."

"Good. Then he'll always remember me." John pulled himself to the wall, gingerly moving his fingers over his leg. "What'd they say about this?"

"They shattered your knee cap and it'll never fully repair."

"Will I have full use of it?"

"There's a bit of debate on that." Branson leaned his arms through the bars. "Why didn't you just accept John? Why fight them?"

"I don't deserve to be here and I shouldn't be here." John thumped a fist against the wooden wall of his cell. "I resigned my commission and came to China to escape all that."

"Then we should've stayed in Hong Kong."

"I thought they'd leave me alone if they didn't have gangsters for me to fight." John sighed, "It's why I left Shanghai as well."

"So you came where Colonel Carlisle is and decided you'd spit at him from your tower?" Branson snorted, "Except it's not a tower and we've not got it anymore."

"You said we'd had the rent paid."

"We did but then you went and broke Lieutenant Barrow's nose and he had a bone or two to pick about that but since you were in here, and unconscious, he took it out on our rooms. Or what used to be our rooms." Branson sighed, "I'm trying not to find it in myself to hate you for losing what little I still had here but it's difficult."

"Why'd you say that?"

Branson held up his arms and John finally heard the clink of his shackles and noted that he was chained to the bars. "They wanted me in there but the doctor needed what little room he had available to try and set your leg."

"I guess it's better compensation than my soul."

"There's no compensation here John." Branson shook his head. "They're sending us to Shan Dong the moment you can get on a horse and not faint."

"Then they'll be waiting for however long it takes me to decide how I want to escape this place." John went to say something else when the door opened. Lieutenant Barrow, with his nose bandaged and eyes rimmed with bruises, marched forward. John tried to tramp down the smile when he noted the tentative way Barrow stepped now.

"Open it." He barked but his voice sounded stuffed.

"He's still injured." Branson protested, rising onto his feet but stopped in a slumped crouch by one of the crossbars. "You can't move him with his leg like that."

"We'll do what we like." Barrow grabbed a baton from one of his men and knocked Branson in the side. Branson bent with it and Barrow laid another blow to Branson's shoulder so he hit the floor on his knees. "You'll not speak back to a superior officer again."

"He's not in the military." John tried to fight off the men who shackled one wrist and reached for the other but with the weight of his damaged leg holding him down there was nothing he could do.

"He's been conscripted, like yourself." Barrow smiled and then dropped the expression as it pulled at his healing nose. "Welcome back to Her Majesty's regiment, Captain."

John tried to keep up, hobbling along on his good leg and dragging his other but the pain had him tripping along in the other men's hold. He blinked, squinting in the bright light and they led him to the center of the compound where a stock opened. As he tried to understand what this meant, his wrists hit the wood and John's neck hit collided with the enclosure hard enough to choke him into a cough. The shackles about his hands stopped them moving backward as the clank of the wooden beam fell in place to hold him still.

"In case there is confusion or questions as to how Her Majesty runs her Empire, let this serve as the lesson to all of you." John craned his head sideways, groaning as it put weight on his leg, and saw Carlisle approaching the stocks. "We punish all alike here. No man is above the law or the rules. Be he officer or enlisted. This man, Captain Bates, suffers for his dereliction of duty and failure to follow orders as well as assaulting a superior officer and a number of inferior officers. For that he's earned himself three days in the stocks."

John almost spoke but something stretched his leg out and he hit the edges of the stocks hard. Someone raised his damaged leg to a straight position behind him as his other leg took all of his weight. He wrenched his body but whatever held his leg did not release and John could only slump in place.

Carlisle's face filled his vision and John jumped at the image before his eyes. "I wonder if we can wait the fight out of you. When confronted with a problem you attempt to solve it, thinking there is a solution to your problem. But what will you do when all you have is the suffering of your own body to keep you company?"

"There's a reason Scotland is the bitch of England." John breathed, "You think you can just wait the enemy out instead of fighting it tooth and claw until you succeed."

"You'll find your teeth and claws have been filed and chained, Captain." Carlisle hissed at him. "Unless you're going to gnaw you way out of here what can you hope to do?"

"I think you'd be surprised what I can do."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

Carlisle vanished and John hopped forward just enough to try and ease the pressure on his standing leg. He could only see the ground immediately below him and a restricted swath of the compound around him. His shoulders pressed forward into the wood of the stocks and pulling back only knocked his chin against it and clattered the shackles.

Dropping his weight, resting as much as he could in the cramped and crouched position, John waited.

* * *

He blinked, his cracked lips and gummed eyes only adding to the dull ache of a body not allowed to move from a position that cramped him in place. A slight shift, near his back leg, signaled the drop of its weight. It hit the ground and John grunted at the pain streaking up to wake his brain from a stupor. His whole body shuddered and he almost collapsed back to put his weight on his wrists and neck before someone caught him at the waist.

"Easy there. Don't want to go giving ourselves away now do we?"

"Branson?" John attempted to speak past the scratch in his jaw as the other voice hissed toward his ear.

"Stupid blighter thought he could get close to me with those keys and I wouldn't take them."

"What?" John turned his head slightly sideways as the shackles from one wrist and then the other dropped to the ground to thump in the dirt.

"I decided to piss on the floor instead of the pot and he tried to come and tell me to stop. But he got within range of my fists and I don't think they warned him I was a bare knuckles brawler in Belfast and Bombay before Beijing and that was their mistake." The stocks came off John's head and he fell back into Branson's hold. "Easy now, I can't carry you."

"I can't move." John whispered, his tongue thick in his mouth.

"Here." Branson dumped a bucket of water over John's face and he blinked through the rush of it. "That'll help you a bit."

John wiped at his eyes, clearing them to see properly as Branson brought a canteen to his lips. "Try not to drink too much or you'll just vomit it up."

After a moment John released the canteen and used Branson's arms to get himself onto his feet. Pins and needles poked and danced through his body, forcing him into odd positions as they walked and tried to get the blood moving through him again in the dark. John's right leg still complained with any weight he put on it but Branson's hold around his waist and the wrist dangling over his shoulder kept them moving like a three-legged race all the way to the stables.

"We just need to get ourselves horses and get gone." Branson located two stalls and draped John over one. "Just wait while I get the tack for this."

John tried to work himself back and forth between the stalls to get all the feeling back in his body as he cracked bones and stretched muscles contorted and twisted from their stay. He paused when his leg seized, and almost dropped him to the floor, but managed to hold himself upright as he gripped the wall. Turning face Branson, he opened the stall doors and helped saddle the horses.

"What's the plan?" John swallowed, trying to get his mouth to work properly as Branson handed the canteen back to him.

"We're riding away from here."

"We can't do that."

"Why not? We're not staying here."

"I mean," John rested the canteen over his saddle and took one second on his injured leg to put his other knee into the horse's stomach. He exhaled immediately and John tightened the saddle straps. "If we go the same direction they'll catch us both."

"You don't sound very confident."

"I know that I'm not getting far on this leg, even with a horse, and given that the only place we know where to go is the port or maybe the road south, they'll see that coming." John took a breath, "You go north and I'll go south. They're more likely to come after me than you anyway."

"And when you've got your pretty head in the stocks again, what'll you do?"

"I'll think of another way to escape." John mounted the horse with a grimace, "It's what I've always done."

"Then you better think quickly because you're on the Colonel's horse." Branson mounted his. "Though I think the Lieutenant's not going to be too pleased about me taking his."

"They're the best animals in the garrison." John steered his horse to the stable doors, noting the large gates of the compound creaking open with the change of the guard. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as ever." Branson stuck his hand toward John, shaking over their saddles. "I hope to see you again in Hong Kong one day. When all this is a memory we laugh about over drinks."

"To that day then." John kicked his horse, riding right for the open gates.

He burst through them, scattering the soldiers changing positions, with Branson right on his tail. The alarm sounded from the compound and they raced through the streets with the echo of shouts and screams coming from all sides. As soon as he could, Branson broke north and John made a show of riding around the city until he turned south.

The countryside stretched before him and he risked only one look behind him to see Carlisle leading a group of soldiers after him. John bent over his horse's head and urged him faster. "Time to prove yourself."

As the sun rose, the race was on.


	4. To an Iron Fate!

John guided the horse through the close hills and toward a gaping ravine. One that barely allowed his horse through and could thin those following him into a single line. Without a weapon this would do John little good but one could only hope they started to break off the pursuit.

But the horses behind him thundered in the same trampling cadence they maintained since they began. From the sounds echoing around the narrow rocks John almost guessed it was the whole collection of horses from the garrison. It was enough to encourage John to turn the horse to the right, weaving back north and away from the route he hoped Branson already had a chance to take by now.

The ravine opened up and John went to kick the horse faster. But instead he pulled the reins to bring the animal up short. It snorted at him but John ignored it as he eyed the armed men before him. One of them leveled a gun and John raised his hands above his head.

"Who are you?" The man barked in Chinese and John struggled over the thick accent before trying to respond in his best version of Chinese.

"I'm being chased."

"We recognize their horses. We know that horse and we know it's not yours." The man kept his gun leveled and John turned in the saddle to see Carlisle, with Barrow on his heels, exit the ravine and form a half circle with John between them and the armed men with their guns trained on the newly arrived soldiers.

John watched Carlisle, edging his horse closer to John but keeping his eyes on the armed men, especially the one with his gun in John's direction. "What's the chink want?"

"I haven't asked." John hissed at Carlisle, waving him back. "You keep approaching and he'll think you want to attack him."

"Then ask the chinker what he wants before I have my men fire on them."

John faced the man, keeping his hands above his head. "What do you want?"

"We want you all to leave our land. This isn't yours to take and we want no part of your little trouble here."

"I'm not with them."

"Then you get them to leave and we'll not have problems with you either." The man moved the gun and John flinched at the sound of a shot.

But no pain echoed through his body. Instead the man holding the gun crumpled, falling forward onto the ground. John turned in the saddle to see Lieutenant Barrow lowering his gun.

"You idiot!" John shouted before the hail of bullets and shots whizzed past his ears to startle the horses.

John kicked his horse into motion and rode to the side, continuing north away from the firefight now echoing about with screams and shouts to compliment the sound of guns. Ducking low over the neck, he kept the horse at a dead run that drove pain up his leg where he tightened it in the stirrups. They rose a bit and then dipped back into another twist in the ravine to get away from the battle behind them.

A shot rang out and John bent double over the horse again. But as he risked a look back he saw Carlisle topple from his horse. John waited for a moment, the primal urge to flee and leave the other man to his fate thumping loudly with the swift pace of his blood. But the brain of the civilized Christian drove John to turn his animal around and race back toward where Carlisle lay moaning on the ground. He missed him on the first pass, unsheathing the ceremonial sword in the saddle instead, and used it like a lance to run through the man on horseback preparing another volley with his gun.

The gun hit the ground and the man, bending and reaching with slow fingers at the sword now sticking through his chest, fell a moment later to join his weapon. John slapped a hand to the rump of the horse to send it away and swung back toward Carlisle's position. The Colonel had himself propped against a rock and tried to glare at John while fumbling for his gun.

John only extended an arm, "Let me help you or die here. It's your choice."

"Why help me?"

"Because leaving you to die is what a coward would do and I'm not that." John grabbed Carlisle's arm and pulled him onto the saddle behind him. "Besides, if I help you then I feel less bad about stealing your horse."

Carlisle only slumped on John's shoulder in response and John urged the horse back to a canter. They could go no faster, weighed down as they were now, but John weaved through the pass keeping his direction as northerly as possible and only changing his choices when shots rang out behind them. Shots he thought they all but escaped until one echoed in his ears.

The horse collapsed and John barely cleared his leg from the stirrup before the horse rolled to crush it. Carlisle toppled onto John and then off onto the ground as John forced them to use the dying animal as cover. He struggled to free Carlisle's pistol and fired at the man who took them down, greeted only with a cry of pain as his reward.

"Come on." John hauled Carlisle to his feet, stuffing the pistol through his belt and reaching for the only other weapon on the saddle, a rifle with no additional shot. "We've got to find cover."

They tottered and stumbled together into a small crevasse in the rock. It offered enough space for John to lay Carlisle at the entrance before limping toward the interior to get a lay of their position. But the further he went inside the cave, the more worried he became about the idea of an ambush.

It tunneled and weaved into the rock until John was sure there were a dozen other access points. But as he turned back to Carlisle, tripping and skidding on the smooth stone, the hollow echo of a bullet stopped him. There, with a smoking pistol, stood Lieutenant Barrow. John felt over his chest but no holes or damp spots or pain indicated any kind of wound.

Once again he realized the shot was meant for another and let his eyes widen as his jaw dropped in horror at the sight of Carlisle, with a round hole in his forehead, slumping to the ground. John grabbed onto the wall for support as his legs gave out. He hit hard enough to jar his whole body and he gritted his teeth as a lightning spasm of pain wrecked havoc through his damaged leg.

"Annoying bastard wasn't he? Convinced he could get you to tame the savages in the north." Barrow snorted and holstered his pistol before walking over to John and taking the pistol from him. "Thought you were the key to it all. Even after I told him I had it all handled."

"What?" John spluttered but any other words he might attempt to manage stopped as Barrow pressed down on his leg.

"There's no reason for the British government to take any more interest in Shan Dong than they already do." Barrow pressed a moment more and then released. "I've got a friend in that area who's got a mining outfit that's bringing everything we need to soothe the savage beasts of this region."

"They're not savages."

"No? Well they're certainly not just like us."

"All the better for them."

"That's a shame." Barrow clicked his teeth, "Gone native have you? Thought you'd shag a few of the people and learn their language and now you're with them?"

"You don't have to be one of them to see them as people, you arrogant bastard."

"My parents, Mr. Bates, were married." Barrow stood, "But now you've put me in a bit of a conundrum."

"What? Can't shoot me the way you shot Carlisle?"

"I didn't shoot Carlisle, you did." Barrow tapped his finger against the gun in John's belt. "Regulation pistol at your belt matches mine and that means you shot him. At least, that's what I'll be able to sell them."

"No one would believe that."

"Which is what makes this hard." Barrow pursed his lips. "If I kill you then that's highly suspicious because my orders are, technically, to bring you in for questioning and the Queen's justice. But if you come in there's a chance your reputation might get you heard by the right people and then where would I be?"

"Hung, if there's any real justice in this world."

"I don't intend to die before I've gotten the share of what's mine, Mr. Bates." Barrow stood, "Which means you're about to experience the operation my friend and I have first hand."

Barrow hauled John up and marched him outside to where two horses waited. The one from the man John impaled and Barrow's horse. John could barely stand, his jaw rattling at the effort he put into gritting his teeth to ignore the calls of his body to collapse. As such his shaking hands were soon tied to the saddle horn and Barrow forced him into the saddle itself.

"Come now, it won't be too far." Barrow mounted his horse and pulled the reins of John's. "We'll be there before you know it."

"And where are we going?"

"For you? Hell of course."

They rode into the night and Barrow only stopped them a few times to drink or rest the horses or for the occasional piss. John's leg throbbed and swelled so much he could barely move and they finally stopped so he could rest it. But by morning, when it had yet to improve, Barrow just shrugged and forced John back into the saddle.

Wherever they headed they were there by noon. Or that was what John hoped when Barrow dropped him from the saddle and then tied him to a tree with his hands above his head. John only sighed in relief as his acing leg finally stretched to its fullest extent. Even the blood draining from his arms above his head was a sweet relief.

Barrow crouched in front of him, a wicked smile on his face. "Now you stay here until I find whom I'm looking for. Then we'll see if you live or you die."

"What'll you tell everyone when they ask how long you've been gone?"

"Not sure that's your business."

"If I'm going to die in the Chinese wilderness," John swallowed, "Then I want to know why."

"Because greed, Mr. Bates, is a powerful motivator." Barrow stood, walking back to his horse and mounting it. "If you had an ounce of self-preservation in that too-noble heart of yours, you'd understand."

He kicked his horse and rode off, leaving John tied to the tree.

Minutes turned to hours and John lost feeling in his fingers first. The tingling spread to his arms and when it combine with the pain already shooting nervous signals up his leg it was all John could do to stay conscious. Eventually he gave up that effort as well and surrendered to the calling edges of the dark.

John's head lolled, images blurring before his eyes. The tattered, torn, and bloody bandages wrapping his leg crusted with mud and sweat and whatever else he picked up since the doctor first wrapped him. A dull throb echoed through his temples and every part of his body that endured bruising, bleeding, or breaking now howled an internal cacophony that echoed through him. All of it only served to drown his thoughts in the primal refuge to escape the pain.

A voice called to him and John tried to blink but his eyes would not open. His hands, limp fish above his head, only flapped uselessly as he tried to command them with fried nerves and lack of blood. Even the sensation that suggested someone untied him seemed far away and dreamlike. The only evidence that the tree no longer trapped him came when his body could fall sideways, away from his leg, and greet the ground.

Something lifted him and John rolled his eyes in his head, still unable to see anything. The only visions passing before his eyes were those he long thought forgotten. The visions he hoped to forget.

* * *

 _His hands tightened around the rifle as he worked through the bush. It clawed at him and he beat it back, wishing he could drop his gun for a machete for even an instant. But a sound to his right had him raising his gun to his shoulder and keeping a quivering finger on the trigger._

 _Another sound and he fired. A body thumped to the ground and John crashed through the brush to find it. There, chest twitching as it tried to rise and fall to counter the blood leaking from a wound, lay a little boy. His eyes met John's and before they filmed over and he breathed his last, John thought he heard the boy speak._

 _But there were words he never learned to understand._

* * *

John's eyes opened and he tried to sit up. Hands pushed him back down onto the cot and for a moment he attempted to thrash about as if he could break loose. But then his immobilized leg let out a shot of pain and John howled himself back to a flat position.

"Don't move or you'll damage yourself further." A voice like cut glass sounded above him and John blinked through the haze of pain to see the woman above him push blonde hair behind her ear. "You're already half dead and I'd rather not think the last three days of my life were a waste."

"Three days?" John tried to breathe normally, his chest rising and falling faster than he could comprehend. "Three days since when?"

"Since Lieutenant Barrow brought you here." She paused, holding something in her hand before she lifted his head to press it to his lips. "I've seen some things in my life but none as destroyed and damaged as you."

"You should see my soul." John croaked and then lapped thirstily at the cup she held to his lips.

"If you've anything to get off your chest in that regard you'll need a priest, not a doctor and we're short on priests here."

"Doctor?" John frowned and the woman stopped.

"Yes, or the closest you'll get out here."

"And where is 'here'?" John gulped more of the water, coughing to the side as she drew back.

"Shan Dong province, near Qingdao." She took a deep breath. "You're the worst thing he's brought here in some time."

"Who brought where?"

"Ms. Smith," John tilted himself up to see a man with a twitching leer to his smile enter what he could now understand was a tent. "I think I should give the orientation to the Captain, don't you?"

"Yes Mr. Green." Ms. Smith bowed her head and cast a final look in John's direction before slipping past the other man and out of the tent.

"She means well but she's not the one to explain these things to you."

John swallowed, forcing himself to sit up as much as he was able, almost biting through his lip to combat the pain. "And you are?"

"I run this camp, Captain Bates, so of course I'm the most qualified." He took a chair, dragging it across the floor to where John half-lay on the cot. "And you need to understand how all this works if you're going to work for me."

"Work for you?" John tried to snort but his body seized and he coughed instead. "Work for you doing what?"

"Not being our intelligence, that much I can say unreservedly." Green clicked his teeth. "I'm told you're not the brightest lantern on the ship."

"Did Lieutenant Barrow tell you that?"

"He intimated you were a hard nut to crack but thought I'd have luck doing it." Green clicked his teeth, "Tough go with Colonel Carlisle though. He was… An ambitious man but also, much like yourself, not the brightest. A different kind of idiot but one I could work around."

"Work around?"

"I couldn't very well work through him." Green snorted, "Too much uniform."

"How'd you do it?"

"Nobility like his is a desperate seize for power and that's distracting enough for me to work in the shadows it allowed."

"And me?"

"You?" Green shrugged, "That depends."

"I'm no good to anyone broken like this."

"But you will mend. The skilled hands of Ms. Smith'll see to that."

"I thought she was a doctor."

"Doctor?" Green laughed, wiping at his eyes when the tears came and the laughter did not stop for a minute. "She's a glorified nurse, Captain. Sent here by Lieutenant Barrow as a means of shutting her up."

"She noticed he was a conniving asshole as well then?"

"There are few who don't see that."

"Then why work with him if even she sees he's not going to help you when it no longer suits him?"

"Because we've all got to work with the devil to get what we want occasionally. And he's easily manipulated. The greedy bastards like him always are."

"I bet Ms. Smith saw through that lie too."

"She's a bit too observant for her own good, I'll tell you that straight. But she knows when to keep matters to herself and, surprisingly, she's proven herself relatively trustworthy." Green nodded at John, "I trust her to get you fighting fit anyway and that's enough for me."

"High praise."

"We're in the wilderness here." Green motioned about them. "We live by what we can get and you, Captain, are what we've got."

"Got to do what?"

"To mine the gold from this land and make ourselves rich."

"Make you rich, you mean."

Green sniggered, "I never said we'd be rich fairly. That's not how the world works."

"Then I should tell you that I've no interest in your gold, whatever deal you have with Lieutenant Barrow, or whatever little empire you're both hoping to carve out for yourselves here. I just want to go back to Beijing so I can then move back to Hong Kong and forget any of this ever happened."

"That's the thing, Captain," Green stood, leaning over John. "You've seen how it all works now. Even being in this tent makes you a threat and my enemy if I deem it so."

"Does it now?"

"It does." Green nodded solemnly, as if giving the last bits of a sermon. "And that only leaves one question for us to answer."

"What question?"

"Are you going to cooperate and thrive here or will I have to put a bullet between your eyes, and the eyes of everyone here, to make sure no one else knows this place exists?"

John held his gaze and then lay back on the bed. "I've already died Mr. Green. A bullet between my eyes only makes it so I don't have to pretend I'm still alive."

Green snorted and then guffawed, slapping a hand against his leg. "I like you, Captain, and I think I need to keep you around for a bit longer."

John did not respond, not even moving when Green left the tent and Ms. Smith returned. She took her position over his cot, treating him again and John turned to her. "Why are you here?"

"Because, Captain, I'm trapped the same way you are." The bottle in her hand clinked and she bit her lip. "This'll hurt."

It hit John's leg and he hissed at the sensation. "Just let me die."

"It's worth the life of five other people to keep you alive." She continued treating his injuries with the flaming liquid. "And I need you well."

"Why?" John seethed through his teeth, his body on fire again.

"Because," She paused, her eyes meeting his. "If you get well then maybe you can help save us all."

"Don't hold your breath."

Ms. Smith only shrugged and then pressed another dose of the liquid to his skin to send John into spasms. "I won't."


	5. But Peace through Justice

He opened his eyes as the light hit him and tried to cover his face. Catching sight of his bandaged hand, John tried to push himself to a sitting position and hissed at the stabs of pain echoing through his whole body. As he tried to slide along the cot he heard a voice.

"I wouldn't move yet." He blinked at the sight of Ms. Smith entering the tent, pulling the walls back to give him a view of a valley dotted with people moving up and down the slick hillsides. "You're still healing."

"I'll be healing forever."

"You're very melodramatic." She placed something behind his back and pushed his shoulder back to help him recline. "And it's only been a week."

"A week with you for company."

"Don't sound so miffed." Ms. Smith shrugged, "Mr. Green tries to get me to be his company constantly so you should feel honored."

"I'll assume his plans for your time together would be very different from the what you do with me."

"Mr. Green's risk of injury is higher if I stay in his company when he attempts to enact those plans." Ms. Smith paused, checking over John's bandages. "And you're healing just fine."

"Then why do I feel like my body is still on fire?"

"That would be the fever and your body trying to knit bone back together."

"Any success there?"

"Your kneecap was almost shattered by that bullet and you did it no favors in your subsequent escape so I doubt it'll ever be completely right again."

John snorted, "But one can dream can he?"

"It's all you've got to do while you're here."

"Why not just kill me then?"

She gave her own mirthless laugh and punched a pillow to set it behind him. "If you think we're just going to kill you after all this work to make you well then you don't understand what you're doing here."

"What am I doing here?"

Ms. Smith stopped, meeting his eyes. "You're here to suffer, Captain, like the rest of us."

"Suffer?"

"What?" Ms. Smith met his eyes with no humor in them, "You think I'm here by choice? Or because I wanted to take a pleasurable trip to Shan Dong?"

"I know Mr. Green intimated you were here because of Lieutenant Barrow."

"That's right." Ms. Smith took a breath, interlacing her fingers so her arms hung at her sides. "I'm here because I saw something I wasn't supposed to and I tried to do something about it."

"No good deed goes unpunished."

"That's exactly what happened." She picked through her bottles and selected one. "I noticed the prisoners at the garrisons went missing or the local vagrants disappeared. I mentioned it to Colonel Carlisle and he referred me to Lieutenant Barrow. He told me not to mind it but when I pressed he drugged me and brought me here."

"Laughing as he did it I imagine."

"He thought it was humorous and said, as I'll never forget," Ms. Smith adopted a tone as close to Lieutenant Barrow's as she could manage. "Here are all the poor bastards you had the misfortune to worry about. Now you can take care of them since you care so much."

"Prick."

"Quite." Measuring a dose of liquid from the bottle onto a spoon, Ms. Smith held it out to John. "Punishment for being noble I guess."

"Perhaps you should patch up your bleeding heart before you patch up the others about you." John swallowed and cringed at the flavor. "It'll save you more trouble in the future.

"Because you're here without an equally noble intention that dragged you into the mud with the rest of poor bastards?"

"Whatever my intentions were they were'nt nearly as noble as yours."

"Noble reasons are still noble." He dropped the spoon into a bowl that wafted vaguely of alcohol. "And pleasure don't do me the disservice of suggesting you wouldn't have done something if you saw what was happening."

"I tend to mind my own business." John settled on the stiff pillows. "I don't have nobility to spare."

"You once wore a uniform."

"Lieutenant Barrow wears the same uniform¸ what does that tell you?"

"That perhaps you'd be noble enough to stop Lieutenant Barrow if you had the chance."

"If I did anything to Lieutenant Barrow it wouldn't have been because I'm a good person." John shifted in place, grimacing at the medicine's residual taste in his mouth. "It would've been so I could kill the man myself."

"Is this his work?" Ms. Smith motioned to John's wrecked leg. "He's not the best shot but I know a close-range wound when I see one and I've the feeling this wasn't the result of a fair fight or a fine sniper."

"This was his work after I broke his nose so I guess he thought it fair compensation for the damage to his visage." John shook his head, "Not like it did me much good."

"Your leg will heal well enough."

"My leg is hardly the problem." John snapped and then settled, "He shot Colonel Carlisle in front of me and intends to blame the death me as a part of my escape."

"I'm sure it'll be no help to you if I tell you he'll have great success in convincing people that a man who tried to escape custody would shoot at those pursuing him."

"I've chased down enough people to know they'll believe it." John shrugged, "He just needs me out of the way."

"So this is your Chateau d'If?" Ms. Smith snorted. "Welcome to where they put those they don't want to acknowledge exist Captain."

"Then should I 'abandon all hope, ye who enter here' and all that?"

"It might not be a bad idea." She shrugged, "Do you need anything else right now?"

"Just your name."

"It's Ms. Smith."

"No," He shook his head, "You've sponge bathed me and treated my wounds so I think we're beyond formal address."

"Depends on your experience." Ms. Smith looked him up and down as if she was measuring him. "I'll admit, you're not the first I've seen but… you're definitely one of the better preserved."

"In all accounts?"

Ms. Smith managed a little smirk, "In some cases better than I'm used to."

"It all still works."

"Of that I've no doubt." She extended a hand, "Anna Smith, if you're still interested in my name."

"John Bates, I prefer to leave the salutations out of it." John shook her hand. "I'm not in the military anymore."

"Then I'll just call you 'John'." Anna smiled, "Get some rest John, your body needs it."

"What about you?" He risked the slice of pain through his arm to raise himself up about to watch her as she took hold of the edge of the tent. "Do you get the rest you need?"

"I get enough of it." Anna nodded at him, "Sleep. It's the best thing for your body to heal the way it needs to."

John laid back, his hands on his chest as the distant sounds of metal striking rock and the occasional cry of pain echoed in his ears. "Not for me."

* * *

 _The body weighed heavily in his arms and John staggered through the brush trying to protect the small form from the whipping grasses. His gun thudded across his back with each step but John ignored the pain. Better yet, it fed him._

 _It fed each thudding footstep as he retraced the depressions he made when the ground was still mud. It fed each shake of his head when the rain poured unexpectedly down on him. It fed the trudge and wrench of his feet through the new mud that sucked persistently at his boots. It fed his shaking fingers to tighten over the boy's body when he hit a rut and almost lost his balance. It fed him as he reached the outskirts of the village._

 _There he stood, like a creature of the darkness, holding the body of the boy in his arms. Children cried out at the sight of him as John stumbled forward and a few women screamed as if he were a demanding god bringing back the devoured sacrifice of their child. The unwitting sacrifice who left his home that morning with a smile and returned with his eyes forever closed in death._

 _He made his way to the center of the village and laid the boy gently on the ground. His coat stuck to the body for a moment, the dried blood cracking and flaking to part them for the last time in the flesh. But John already detected the presence of the boy around him. The boy with a name he would never tell apart from the other words shrieked and called after him as he left. A name that would forever haunt him as all the things he would never know about the life he unwittingly stole._

 _He did not look back. He barely even flinched when rocks pelted his back and shoulders. One cuffed his head and John only stumbled a moment. His fingers traced the area, the wetness there different from the sleek wet of the rain that already soaked him._

 _Silence greeted him as he risked one look behind him. All had frozen when he did, rocks and other objects still in their hands as if determining a fight to the death should he retaliate. Instead, John turned on his heel and walked off into the darkness._

 _A darkness he hoped would devour him so instead of the spirit of the boy haunting him, he might join that spirit in that life that waited beyond this one. Or just vanish into the nothingness. Either option would suit him just fine._

* * *

John maneuvered to the edge of the cot carefully and adjusted to put both of his feet on the ground. Anna held her hands out to him and John took them. He surged up and she tugged lightly to help him stand.

For the brief moment he experienced the joy of being on his own two feet again, John almost laughed. But then his right knee buckled and he collapsed back onto the cot. Anna kept his hands in hers, stopping him toppling over, and waited until he released.

"Not bad." She finally moved her fingers away, pivoting to take the pair of rough-hewn crutches from the side of the tent and presenting them to him. "At least you can still stand and your leg stretches out properly."

"You call that standing?"

"What would you call it?" Anna handed him the crutches but John shook his head. "You'll need to move eventually or your legs will atrophy and then I might have to cut them off."

"You'd amputate me?"

"If the flesh necrotizes I'll not risk you passing on the disease of death to anyone else here." Anna pushed the crutches at him. "I'd rather take my chances on my first amputation with a tree-saw and a sewing needle if it meant I could preserve other lives."

"Maybe it'd be better for them all if we all died."

"And maybe you'd like to meet the five people Mr. Green chose today to make sure I saw to your healthy recuperation?" Anna pointed with her thumb behind her. "They're working rather close and they'd like to meet you I'm sure."

"Why would he threaten five people to make sure you're helping me?"

"Because he knows that if I thought it the better option I'd help you die. Now," Anna put her hands out and flapped her fingers toward her body in the signal for him to come to her. "Walk toward me."

"With these?" John held up the crutches, "They're far too short."

"The last man to use them didn't have your height but they're all we have."

"They'll force me to bend over so far I'll break my back."

"Then the next time I'm allowed to requisition supplies from the Queen I'll make sure to ask for some cut to your exact specifications."

John scowled, "It's not nice of you to mock."

"And you could do with a lesson in the manners of not complaining." Anna put a hand on her hip and motioned again for him to come to her. "Get up and walk to me. Then we'll discuss how to get you some kind of crutches you could actually use."

"I can carve them myself."

"I'll see about getting you some wood." Anna waited, "But not unless you're actually going to try standing and walking to me. There's no point in wasting my time otherwise."

"Are you like this with all of your patients?"

"I believe there's a carrot and a stick for everyone." Anna raised an eyebrow at him, "Would you like me to use the stick?"

"This wasn't the stick?"

"Not even hardly."

John put his hands on the crutches, jammed the bases into the ground, and pushed off the bed. Between his arms and good leg, John stumped the short distance to Anna and she put her hands on his shoulders to hold him in place. Her hands moved down him as she checked over her shaking arms and then took a closer inspection of his leg.

"Healing alright then." She pressed at his shoulders to turn him and served escort to get him back to the bed. "Five minutes and then I want you to do a complete circuit of this tent."

"A circuit?" John let his weight drop, immediately extending his leg as it shook and quivered under him. "Are you mad?"

"I don't believe in coddling the injured when the body needs to test its limits."

"I know my limits, Anna, and that'll be too far."

"Then learn to surpass them." Anna held a canteen toward him and John swigged from it. "From the way Mr. Green talks you'll be one of the foremen here and that requires you on your feet for hours at a time."

"Foreman?" John wiped at his mouth and held the canteen closer to his chest when Anna reached for it. "Doesn't that imply trust?"

"No." Anna went for the canteen again but John kept it out of her reach. "I'll not be clawing over you for that like a child trying to rescue a toy."

"Then tell me why he wants me as his foreman."

"So he can keep a close eye on you." Anna snatched the canteen from him, stepping out of arms length so he could not recover it so easily. "You'll get this back when you walk the circuit."

"What if I don't want to be his foreman?"

"Then he'll shoot you, blame it on a native group of Lieutenant Barrow's choosing, and help orchestrate the continued slaughter and enslavement of the people here."

"You'd lay that as my charge?" John tightened his grip around the wood and pushed himself to stand, advancing on Anna. "You think I deserve to bear that burden."

"When those with the power to take action fail to do so, is that not something to lay at their feet?" Anna stepped out of the way but John followed her.

"You're saying that my responsibility isn't to my own survival or my principles but to those people?"

"It's the calling we're asked to undertake."

"Why?" John tried to get close again but Anna sidestepped, moving them around his cot.

"Because those with the power to take action must take action for no one else will. We are in a position to do something more and that's what we should do."

"I'm not sure you'd like the kind of actions I'd undertake."

Anna frowned, dodging him again. "I feel there's a story there."

"There are potentially a lot of stories there but none of them are your business." John finally managed to get the strap on the canteen and pulled it toward himself. Anna went with it until she stood less than a breath from him. "Unless you're willing to share some of your own."

"You're right." Anna let her hand leave the canteen and the strap, giving him a little smile. "It's none of my business."

John frowned in confusion and then looked around. They had circled the whole tent and while his leg trembled with the pain that set him afire, he managed the distance. Anna snorted and John retook his seat, stunned to silence.

"I guess it's all about perspective isn't it?" Anna checked him again, pulling at his leg and stretching his limbs to press at muscle groups. "You should be alright."

"Should?"

"I'm not a doctor and the little I'm learning about the medicine here makes me leery of trusting it. However," Anna got back to her feet and took the crutches to lay them alongside the cot. "You're now on your own as far as taking a piss."

"You expect me to manage holding myself up on my leg to do that?"

"It's not a complicated function." Anna shrugged, "And if you need to then just sit down. There's a pot in the corner if you trust your aim from a seated position."

"Is this part of your 'no coddling' mentality?"

"Complain all you like but I believe there's much more to be gained by trusting in human ingenuity and desperation to solve this problem for yourself." Anna sorted through her things. "And since I've given you more of my time than any of my other patients I think I should encourage Mr. Green to move you."

"Move me where?"

"The foremen's tents are closer to the medical tent and it would make it so I don't have to walk down from here, through the valley, and back up the other side."

"Why am I so far away from everyone else?"

Anna paused, biting at the inside of her cheek so hard John could see the white skin on the outside of it. "Because he didn't want you to hear the sounds that might convince you to end your own life."

"You believe I'd do that?"

"When you first arrived I didn't know what to believe and I didn't have anything to believe either way." Anna gathered a few tools. "Now, I think you're a bit too attached to life to end it for yourself."

"You sound overly convinced of that."

"I trust that a man, with the kind of stories you don't want to tell, hanging over him isn't usually in the biggest of hurries to meet his Maker."

"Maybe I want to take all that pain with me."

"You've got too many ghosts waiting to greet you when that happens, John." Anna went to the tent flap and lifted it. "You're in no hurry."

"You don't know me." John bit back at her, shifting back onto the cot. "And I'd rather you not pity me."

"You're someone deserving quite a bit of pity but you'll never have it from me."

"Why's that?"

"I haven't the time to soothe your ego or put a salve on your conscience." Anna almost walked through the tent before she stopped to give him one last piece of her mind. "And I do know you Captain Bates. I've treated more men in your position, physically and emotionally, than I've reason or desire to count."

"They're not me."

"No, they weren't. And each of your pains was slightly different but the saddest fact of life is that no pain is so unique that someone in the world hasn't suffered it before." She pointed at the crutches. "If you want to risk another round of the tent it would do you good. Use your anger to power you through it and you might even make two rounds and surprise yourself."

Anna left the tent and John grabbed at one of the crutches, breaking it in half.


	6. Is the Great Ideal

John dragged the knife back toward him, the sliver of wood curling toward him before falling into the pile of shavings on the ground. He put the knife to the side and squinted to look along the line before holding it out at arm's length to check the angle. With a satisfied snort he put the piece to the side before looking up as the flap of the tent opened.

"You weren't lying." Anna came to the cot, picking up the crutch and checking it for herself. "You do have skill."

"I thought it a good punishment since I broke the last pair."

"With your bare hands too, which I thought a bit intimidating."

"Just intimidating?"

"I'll admit, I found it impressive as well." Anna brought over a tray of tools. "If you want to avoid splinters I've got some sanding paper and finish."

"These are function over fashion."

"Do you want to pull splinters from your fingers while I yank them from your sides and armpits?" Anna held the tray out until John took them. "Why are men always so obnoxiously stubborn?"

"It's a defense against our inevitable stupidity."

"I beg to differ." Anna folded her arms over her chest. "How are your circuits?"

"I can manage five before I need a breather now."

"Good because today we're taking your trips outside." She gestured to the tent around them. "Mr. Green's approved your move. Says it's time you use your training to take a look about you. Get used to the people you'll be watching the area you're taking over."

"What happened to the last one?"

"He died."

John frowned, "Accident?"

"I tend not to speculate." Anna gathered her things, shutting them into boxes and working them under her arms before jerking her head toward the door. "Come on, best see where you're going."

"I can only do five circuits of the tent."

"It's only the equivalent distance to six circuits, which'll test you just fine, and if you feel worried then I can assure you the fear'll do the rest for your adrenaline."

"Fear?"

"It's what drives the workers here. Might as well drive you as well." Anna held the flap back, "Coming?"

John slipped rags over the supports and handholds on his crutches, positioning them under his arms, and stumped to follow her. Once outside the tent he could take in the whole valley before them. But as Anna started down the rise, John noted that the distant figures were now more than specks of moving color or black on the hill. They turned to people and when their eyes met his he recognized the expression of absolute despair in their eyes.

"Will," John maneuvered his crutches carefully, mindful of the shale and looser rocks under them. "Green still threaten people now?"

"He's always threatening people."

"I meant, specifically, in reference to me."

"Now that you're on the mend?" Anna shrugged as John nodded, "Who knows."

"Shouldn't you know?"

"He's not told me if he's got someone in mind but I'll take the idea that he trusts you're not going to kill yourself and that I'm not going to kill you to save you as enough to not bother picking five innocent people to threaten every morning." Anna sighed, "It's exhausting."

"As if your work wasn't already exhausting." John managed the last few dips to reach the level part of the little ravine that started the valley stretching out before them. "What is your work… exactly?"

"I'm a nurse, doctor, healer, masseuse, and generally whatever gets people back on their feet so they can keep digging gold from the unforgiving rock." Anna led John up the switchback-ed path to reach the line of tents near the top. "It keeps them from dying, which I find unfortunate."

"Unfortunate that you're saving lives?"

Anna faced him, whirling around so quickly John almost lost his balance and tumbled back down to the valley floor. "It's not saving lives. I'm giving them all a half-life. Their bodies move and their minds work but only to survive. Their souls are dead and they're half-people." She shook her head, "I'm the Reaper of their souls. Worse than the people who bring them here or force them to work because I keep them working. I prolong their suffering until they're nothing but mindless automatons, driving away at the rock until they can no longer move."

John swallowed as she wiped at her eyes with a free hand. "And then I'm allowed to let them die."

They reached the rise, Anna continuing in the lead to reach a tent. She kicked at the flap and a woman peeked out. They stood about the same height but the woman's shock of black hair twisted and piled at the back of her head to keep it out of the way and the hints of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes betrayed her age. As she stepped from the tent John risked a move backward to take in more of the woman. A woman, he realized, who might have stood taller if her back had not already stooped with decreasing bone density to leave her draping closer and closer to the ground.

She eyed John, taking in his crutches, shaking frame, and bearing, before turning to Anna and chattering away in Mandarin. The speed of her assault let John reeling, trying to catch every third word if he could, and eventually he only blinked at Anna for any kind of explanation. But she took no notice of his confusion and simply handed over the boxes of supplies to the women before pointing back across the valley to the lone tent erected on the far side. The motion acted as a segue to launch into her own swift delivery of Chinese words.

John could only wait until the two women finished their discussion and the older, shorter woman disappeared. Blinking, and trying to sort through the words he did know but making no sense of the conversation, John shifted toward Anna. "May I ask what's going on?"

"That's Mrs. He, my assistant."

"Assistant?"

"Green calls her 'Hughes' because he can't get the tone right and says she reminds him of a Scottish housekeeper he met in England once." Anna shrugged, "He's not one to appreciate the culture or the nuances of this place."

"If he's driving these people to ruin I'd say not." John set the crutches back under his arms and rocked into a cadence to follow Anna along the well-worn path defining the tents. "How do you speak the language so well?"

"Practice." Anna opened a flap on another tent, pushing it back to allow John inside. "This one's yours. It belonged to the last foreman and so, by right, you're inheriting it."

"Does it give you any comfort to know that I'm not overly grateful to have the spot?" John worked his way inside, sitting on the cot and stretching out his leg while the other shook and spasmed. "I could think of other things I'd rather be doing than aiding this madman."

"Couldn't we all?" Anna folded her arms over her chest and pointed to the half-hearted rags now dangling from the crutches. "I'll not do you the disservice of asking if those are tall enough for you but I will extend the offer for some sandpaper and finish."

"Think they could use some shine?"

Anna snorted, "As I mentioned earlier, I think they could use to not embed splinters into your skin. I've got better uses for my time than to dig shards of wood from your body."

"I'm sure I could liven it up with conversation."

"That was never in question." Anna motioned around the tent. "It's not much but once you're a bit better Mrs. He'll take your measurements."

"For?"

"Clothes. I'm sure you've noticed that between the rags we could find and your own disintegrating clothing you're woefully undressed for what you're facing here."

"I think I could say that about everything I'm facing." John sighed, "But I won't say no to the sandpaper and the finish, if that's alright."

"I'm glad you're learning not to be so stubborn."

John shrugged, "You seem a bit happier when I'm not kicking against the pricks so I thought I should give it a try."

Anna frowned. "What does my mood have to do with it?"

"It's…" John faltered, "You're the only person I know here, besides Green, and I was hoping for a friend."

"Oh." Anna rubbed her arms, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "I guess I didn't really consider that as an option of our current predicament."

"Would you rather I-"

"No," Anna stopped him with a hand. "It's more… More that I've not made friends here. They've a habit of dying or being used against me and I'd rather not risk it. If it's all the same to you."

"Used against you like the five innocents Green marked for death when he thought you might help me end it all?"

Anna nodded, "Except for a more… personal, vendetta."

"And you've endured that?"

"You make it sound like I've a choice in the matter."

"You could escape." John pointed at her, "You're healthy and not without your skills. I'd bet you could get all the way back to Beijing if you thought-"

"There's nowhere to run, John." Anna came toward him, grabbing his shoulders as if to shake the reality into him. "There's no one to save us and nowhere to go. We're miles from towns, we'd have to risk roads crawling with those who have something to gain from Green, and even if we could get away we'd just leave a mass grave behind."

"What does that mean?"

"Look out there." Anna pointed and then pressed her hand against John's face to force the direction. "Look!"

"I'm-"

"He forces them to carve it that way so he could set charges and blow it all in the case he gets discovered. He'd crowd them all into that ravine and let the mountains crumble on top of them. He'll cut his losses with what he's already got, which isn't a small sum, and move on to torment and pillage somewhere else." Anna stepped away from her John, her hand falling from his face. "The five lives he threatened to get me to help you are nothing compared to the hundreds he'd kill if I tried to run. If anyone tried to run."

"But it's-"

"There are no 'buts', John." Anna flustered a moment and then gave an exasperated sigh. "Just do your job and no one gets hurt."

She left his tent in such a hurry the flap fell down, leaving John in brown shadows and stifling darkness.

* * *

 _He knocked back the glass, flipping the right coin at the man behind the bar and pointing to a bottle on one of the shelves. The barman tried to shake his head but when another coin landed in his palm there was nothing else to answer but to hand the bottle over. The glass clinked together, the lip of the bottle supported on the edge of the shot glass to keep it steady as he poured, and a moment later the bottle righted. An almost perfect curve topped the glass now brimming with an amber liquid._

 _"_ _To all the souls who haunt me." He knocked back the glass, not spilling a drop, and hissed at the burn down his throat. "Choke on that if you can."_

 _"_ _Unless they're Irish I doubt they could manage it." He flicked his eyes to the left as a man took the stool next to his. "It's been some time hasn't it, Captain?"_

 _"_ _Don't call me that." He filled another glass and knocked this one back just as quickly, almost slopping a bit of it over the sides. "I resigned my commission already."_

 _"_ _Then what are you still doing in Mumbai?"_

 _"_ _Nowhere better to go." The Captain swallowed another glass before passing it over the wooden surface toward the other man. "As yet, anyway."_

 _"_ _Home's not the place for 'John Bates' anymore?"_

 _"_ _I couldn't even begin to tell you where 'home' is." John took the bottle in his hand and put the mouth to his, pulling at the liquid to seek the burn that lingered no longer. "And I wouldn't belong there anyway."_

 _"_ _Why not?"_

 _"_ _Lost my hearth when my mother died, before I boarded a boat and told myself I was coming to India to help my Queen." John sniffed, weighing the bottle in his hand as the liquid inside sloshed back and forth. "Lost my home when I chose the barracks. Lost my woman when I didn't have the epaulettes she wanted."_

 _"_ _I heard about that." The other man winced, reaching for the bottle but John kept it out of his reach. "I wasn't taking the mickey."_

 _"_ _I don't need your pity." John took another swallow, holding the man's gaze. "What about you?"_

 _"_ _What about me?"_

 _"_ _What's Tom Branson still doing in Mumbai when he was dishonorably discharged from Her Majesty's Royal Marines?" John tipped a swallow of the drink into Branson's glass. "I would've thought you'd be as far from here as you could manage without setting fire to your trousers."_

 _"_ _I would, if there was anything back there for me except trouble."_

 _"_ _Like you haven't found your fill of trouble here." John snorted, laughing a bit harder than the moment called for, and hiccupped to finish. "Perfect record and all that I'm sure."_

 _"_ _As poorly as you must've thought I behaved here, imagine what it's like when you live in a country under the boot of another." Branson huffed at John, drinking the pittance of the alcohol John allotted him. "Think what you will but it's safer for me here than there."_

 _"_ _No doubt." John took a deep breath, shaking himself as if to dispel the fug of drink from him. "What do you plan to do then, if you're staying here?"_

 _"_ _I wasn't thinking of staying here."_

 _"_ _But-"_

 _"_ _I'm not going back home but I'm not staying in India." Branson leaned over the table, "The real fortunes are made in the Orient now."_

 _"_ _We're in the Orient."_

 _"_ _China, John." Branson clapped a hand to John's shoulder. "Hong Kong, Shanghai, Beijing… There's no end to the possibilities and opportunities waiting to the north."_

 _"_ _Feels like more of the same." John pointed to the men in red coats around them. "Just more boys tossed to the cannon while their commanders pin another medal on their undeserving chest."_

 _He turned the bottle in his hand, watching the sway of the liquid inside again. "More children to die unnecessarily."_

 _"_ _Then you don't want to come to Hong Kong and see what's there?"_

 _"_ _Just more of Her Majesty's extended arm." John shrugged, "What could make it different from here?"_

 _"_ _For one thing, they're Chinese, not Indian." Branson winked at John, "And I hear they're a little less conservative with the protection of their daughters there."_

 _"_ _Anywhere where you're dealing with someone's daughters, no one is going to be less conservative." John shuddered, noting men in the corner chatting up a prostitute. "I've no interest in contracting the kind of payment they'll give besides the traditional services rendered."_

 _"_ _Then for the adventure."_

 _"_ _I've already had that." John pointed to his bottle. "This is where adventure got me. I don't need more of it."_

 _"_ _But you do need to get away from your wife."_

 _"_ _She's not my wife anymore." John knocked back enough alcohol to almost send him choking but he swallowed it, eyes watering as he tried to regain his breath. "she picked her side and it wasn't mine."_

 _"_ _Then pick my side and find something new." Branson paused, "It might help you set some of your more… haunting spirits to rest."_

 _John turned to him, blinking as the room swayed for just a moment but the determination in his tone set the room right again. "What would you know of the spirits that haunt me?"_

 _"_ _Don't think people don't talk about what you scream and mutter in your nightmares." Branson shrugged, "You're not the only one whose got his demons on his back."_

 _"_ _The only I know with the demons of young children."_

 _"_ _It was an accident."_

 _"_ _Doesn't make him any less dead." John finished the bottle and pushed back from the table. "I didn't even know his name."_

 _"_ _And if you got shot in battle they wouldn't know your name either. It's what happens John."_

 _"_ _That makes it right?"_

 _"_ _That makes it what it is." Branson stood up as well, digging in the inside pocket of his coat to extract a ticket he laid on the table. "In case you change your mind about drowning your sorrows in India."_

 _"_ _You think I should bury them in China?"_

 _"_ _I think you could confront them in China." Branson shrugged, walking out of the bar._

 _John's hand reached for the bottle again but remember it was empty. His fingers drifted over the ticket, caressing the edges before picking it up. He stared at it for another minute before tucking it into his jacket and leaving the bar._

* * *

"Enjoying the view?" John turned over his shoulder to see Green approaching, hands in his trouser pockets. "It's rather majestic isn't it?"

"Not the words I'd use to describe what I see."

"I guess words fail one when they watch nature crumble to the ingenuity of man." Green extracted his hands to put them on his hips and survey the area below them like a proud father watching his child take first steps. "This is what man can build."

"I don't know if-"

"You're going to argue with me again." Green turned to John, who turned on his crutches. "Always the difficult one, aren't you?"

"Would you prefer me different?"

"I could do with a version that's a bit less damaged." Green drew his finger over the air as if tracing John. "The version of you I met in India."

"We met in India?"

"It was so long and I was just a face," Green waved John's surprise away. "They almost put me in your regiment but I was transferred into the same unit with Lieutenant Barrow instead."

"I see your connection's a long one."

"Never burn a bridge you might need later." Green sighed, shrugging up a shoulder. "He lasted longer in the military than I did."

"Did they excuse you or did you excuse yourself?"

"Her Majesty's forces and I realized we weren't made for one another."

"I can't imagine either side felt they lost too much by the dissolution of your association."

"A trait I'm sure you shared with your ex-wife." John bit on his jaw and Green laughed. "I didn't request you lightly, Captain. I knew what I was buying."

"Then why bother buying someone as damaged as myself?"

"Because someone as broken as yourself wants purpose, something to fix him." Green waved at the empty quarry below them. "You can protect those people from me and that'll allow you the nobility of spirit that still burns under all that self-loathing."

"I don't loathe myself."

"Anyone who cries out in the night like you do loathes themselves." Green lowered his voice and John noted the hairs on his arms standing on end. "Don't think you can fool me. I know what you are, John Bates, and while you don't wear the uniform any longer you still server Her Majesty. You can't throw off that shackle, no matter how old and crippled you've become."

Green stepped back, "Besides, at the very least I find all I'll have to do is toss out the idea that Ms. Smith might come to harm, should you disappoint."

"What do you think Ms. Smith has to do with-"

"You fancy yourself a knight, Captain. Perhaps with tarnished armor and a few more dents than you'd like but you're a knight all the same. And the knight never risks his lady." Green sniggered to himself, walking toward a larger tent. "Don't risk your lady."

"There's something," John finally spoke up, stopping Green in his tracks but not bringing the man to turn. "You should know about knights."

"Oh?" Green turned, tilting his body as if to invite John's answer and taunt him simultaneously. "And what would that be?"

"A knight in shining armor is one whose metal's never been tested." John stood taller, even with his crutches and his twinging leg. "One in armor like mine, we know how to fight and we know what we'll survive because we survived this long."

"Then I hope, Captain, you find a way to use your armor for good here. I've got no time to waste trying to buff it for you."

Green walked away and John narrowed his eyes after him. "I wouldn't give you the honor or the satisfaction."


	7. We'll Pay the Price of War

John stretched out his leg, following the gentle guides of Anna's hands. "And that?"

"About like before."

"Good." She dropped his leg and crouched next to him so she could help bend it at the knee. "And here?"

"The same."

"Then," Anna released his leg and stood, "I think you're ready to use a cane."

"Do I need to carve it for myself?"

"It wouldn't hurt since you know how tall you are and what you need." Anna nodded at the crutches. "They turned out nicely, in the end."

"They're worn and torn."

"Then it shows they worked." She surveyed the tent, "Made it your own then? A bit of home for you here."

"Not sure really." John pushed himself to stand and when Anna came over to help him, he held out a hand. "I can manage."

"'Course you can." She stepped back. "Show me how far you can manage without a cane and we'll see if we can't suffice with a splint."

"A splint?"

"It'll keep your leg supported and both hands free." Anna shrugged, "It's a suggestion, not an order Mr. Bates."

"So a splint and a cane?" He snorted, "Why not just get me a limp corrector?"

"Because I don't feel like cutting away necrotic flesh when you inevitably allow it to fester when the open sores form because you're too stubborn to ask for help." She folded her arms over her chest. "Don't think I haven't figured you out."

"You're very astute Ms. Smith." John took a breath and moved toward the flap of the tent. "Let's see if we can make it to the wood pile to find a piece of wood suitable enough to carve my cane."

"That's a daring distance."

John gave her a small smile, "I might just want to impress you, Ms. Smith."

"I'm sure there are easier ways to do that."

"Not many." John let out a breath, "Onward."

Anna trailed him closely, holding the crutches in her hands as John limped his way toward the wood pile. He stumbled slightly on the rocky path but Anna's hand held him steady until he could regain his footing. When John did, he released her hand quickly and continued toward his destination.

When the pile was within his reach, John extended a hand toward a promising piece of wood. But the overextension left him vulnerable and when something struck his knee he crumpled. His flailing arms offered no help as he toppled face-first into the pile. The weight of his body sent pieces flying and he hit the ground hard enough to drive air from his lungs.

John rotated, pulling at his leg with both hands to move it as spasms rocked and twitched the muscles while shards of pain lanced from the points of impact. As he blinked the tears of pain from his eyes, blurring all vision and blocking all sound from his mind, John met the gaze of Lieutenant Barrow. The other man snorted.

"Not so impressive now, are you?" John went to rise but Barrow kicked his leg again, the tow of his boot impacting with the center of subsiding pain that now radiated stronger than before as if exponentially fed by the action. It blurred John's vision and his head swam through it so he almost missed Barrow's next words. "Perhaps you'll think twice about breaking my nose."

The primitive part of John's brain had his hand reaching for a piece of wood. It came around faster than John comprehended and much faster than Barrow did. Fast enough to whack the man soundly across the cheek. The skin split and Barrow half-turned to address the damage. That was when John drove the board up to hear the satisfying crack of Barrow's nose for a second time.

Barrow hit the ground, holding his face and wailing in pain, and John forced himself to his feet. Anna's hand wrapped around his and pulled him upright, hurrying to put the crutches under his arms but John brushed her away. "Don't pity me. I don't need that."

"It's not pity, it's help." She huffed at him, "Ungrateful bastard."

"It's you feeling sorry for me."

"The only person who can ever feel sorry for you, is you Mr. Bates." Anna snorted at him, "I can't pity you."

"Why not?"

"Because you just broke that man's nose and that's not exactly pitiful." Anna pushed the crutches into John's hands. "Or I'll shove you into the pile myself."

John scowled, taking the crutches as Anna crouched in front of Barrow. The man tried to brush her off but she twisted his wrist away from his face and he cried out in pain while she checked his injuries. When he attempted to speak John cringed at the snap of Barrow's nose slotting back into place before Anna wiped her hands on Barrow's shirt.

"Our dear Ms. Smith can't help but be everyone's salvation, can she?" All three sets of eyes, two of them still watering slightly, focused on Green as he exited the building next to the wood pile. "Our resident Good Samaritan. Here to put us all to shame."

"I've no interest in shaming anyone." Anna nodded at Barrow. "I'll assume the Lieutenant didn't want to explain who broke his nose when he's not supposed to be here. It'd raise too many questions."

"It's Captain now." Barrow forced himself to his feet, glowering at Anna and John. "And no one knows I'm here. I'm on leave."

"No family to visit?" John pressed but Barrow only met his eyes for a moment. "What? Nothing else to say when I'm on two feet and have a chance to knock your ass to the ground again?"

"Gentlemen," Green stepped between them as Barrow surged toward John and John pushed his crutches out of the way to bring up his fists. "It'd be a shame to have to kill you both for being foolish."

John kept his fists raised until he noted the almost imperceptible shake of Anna's head from the side. He huffed and dropped his fists, the motion echoed by Barrow's for a second. But it was a second too late as one fist came around and caught John on the jaw. He spun slightly with the motion and toppled back onto the wood pile.

"Break my nose again and I'll break more than your leg." Barrow tried to step toward him but Green grabbed his arm and everyone froze at the recognizable sound of the hammer on a pistol drawing back.

"That'd be most unwise, Captain." Green's voice remained even, as though he discussed nothing more complicated than the weather. "I won't have you kill another of my foremen."

"Crowborough was-"

"Was mine. Like Captain Bates here is mine." Green drew the gun back slowly, his eyes never leaving Barrow's as Anna offered a hand to help John stand again. "You have no power here, Thomas. I'd ask you remember that."

"I make this all possible." Barrow pressed a hand to his chest but blanched slightly at the expression on Green's face. "They don't know it exists because… Because I… I make this possible."

"Yes. You bring me degenerates, orphans, street vendors, and the scum of the earth. Yes, you keep the British army out of the area and the British government off my back. And yes, I'm so grateful for your more valuable acquisitions that enable me to continue the work I have to do here." Green patted Barrow's shoulder. "But if you ever threaten my work again, I'll not hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes and leave you for the carrion birds."

Green leaned toward Barrow, his voice taking an edge that had the hairs on the John's arm standing on end. "Do I make myself clear?"

Barrow nodded, "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." Green pushed Barrow away. "Not get back to Beijing. I don't need anyone looking for you here. Or at all, for that matter."

Barrow gave John a final glower before slinking off behind the building. John's grip on his crutches loosened slightly and he hopped on one foot as an attempt to put any weight at all on his right sent another tremor of pain through his leg. But when he turned back to the wood pile, Green's voice broke his concentration.

"I thought Ms. Smith said you were almost ready to being your duties on a more… permanent basis." Green's arms folded over his chest as John finally turned to look at him. "Crutches seem a step in the wrong direction."

"They're a temporary fix since your little attack dog was allowed a bit too much leash." Anna ground her teeth, John noting the twitch of muscle in her jaw. "Who knows how far back he just set us."

"Hopefully not the three months you've had him under your care." Green stepped toward Anna, his voice edging toward the menace he used on Barrow. "I'd hate to think our nurse was somehow incapable of doing her duty here."

"I'm very good at what I do. If there's a problem, you can look to Barrow to fix it." Anna sniffed, "As strong as Mr. Bates here is, he's not invulnerable and there are limits to my skills, no matter what that may mean to you."

"It means my foreman needs to stand for twelve hours a day, control the miners, and speak enough Chinese to get them to do the work without miming directions like a chimpanzee."

"Mrs. He says his Chinese is coming along. He's got the tones right for most of the instructions."

"Most?"

"He's still English. He's got an accent and not everyone in this area speaks Mandarin." Anna sighed, "The Shan Dong province boasts no less than-"

"I don't give a bloody shit what dialect they speak." Green rounded on John and reached around him for a thick rod. He broke it over his knee and handed the two ends to John. "Make one your cane and the other your rod. I don't have time for carrots so all that's left to us is the stick."

John swallowed and nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Finally, someone without an excuse." Green leveled a finger at Anna. "He starts full-time at the beginning of next week. I need my foremen all pulling their weight or this operation falls apart."

Anna gave a short nod. "I understand."

"I should hope so." Green narrowed his eyes at her, "Unless you think I need to teach you another lesson. I'm sure I could find time for you this evening. Maybe then you'd learn."

John noted the pale, sick twinge that took over the pallor of Anna's face. "There's no need for that."

"Good." Green motioned to the wood pile. "Clean this up and get him back to his tent. I need him shipshape and Bristol fashion."

"He'll be as close to 'good as new' as I can manage."

Green did not respond, just left the two of them with the disrupted wood pile. John examined the two pieces in his hand and tossed them both out of the way before his crutches joined them. Anna turned in the direction of the noise before raising her eyebrow at him.

"You've got a funny way of taking care of your body."

"They'll get in the way." John hopped to the pile and rested a hand on it to bend and lift pieces back into a semblance of order. "Besides, I don't believe in application of the rod."

"I'm sure your ass was sore as a child."

"My father preferred a belt to a rod." John shuddered, "Although my grandfather took a birch one to my backside on three different occasions and I'll never forget those moments."

"Ripped you raw?"

"I couldn't sit down for three days." John tossed another piece of wood on the pile. "I swore my child would never get the strap or the rod."

"These aren't your children."

"No," John shook his head, reaching for another piece of wood. "But they're under my care and that's about the same thing to me."

"Is it?"

"What would you have it be?"

Anna shrugged, "The foremen here are a mixed breed."

"How so?"

"Some are like you. Skilled individuals dragged here and forced to work. Others are simply those who survived long enough to make it that far."

"Which do you prefer?"

Anna paused, handling a piece of wood before adding it to the pile and balancing it so no precarious sections threatened to tumble and crush them or destroy their work. "We're all slaves so it's about as useful as comparing which kind of shit you prefer to shovel."

John snorted, "You've got a mouth on you."

"Don't let Green hear you say that." John turned to her at the tone in her voice. "He won't want you to explain your meaning."

"I'm sorry?"

"Just…" Anna shook her head. "I've been around soldiers, sailors, and miners for most of my life. There's no word I haven't heard, no term that's not been demonstrated or explained, and no gesture I'm not familiar with. What I say is a reflection of my vocabulary, Mr. Bates."

"But you weren't talking about my meaning when you referenced the possible double entendre just now." John limped closer to her. "What does Green have to do with that?"

Anna met his eyes, "You asked I not pity you so I'd request the same favor."

"I'm not pitying you, Ms. Smith." John frowned, "But you did mention before that there was personal component to why Green torments you."

She rested her hand on the wood, drumming her fingers a moment before sighing. "When Barrow brought me here it wasn't just because I made myself troublesome to his operation in Beijing. It was… It was more than that."

"How?"

"Green makes a monthly deposit of his gold to the branch of a London bank with dealings in Switzerland." Anna shrugged, "It's how I first met Green. He was visiting Barrow and, I assume, giving him a cut of their profits."

"And he spotted you spying on them?"

"He saw me and wanted me, Mr. Bates." Anna scoffed, running the back of her hand over her forehead. "Men like Green… They believe they're entitled to what they want. They don't need anything more than a word to say it's theirs and they believe it. They want it then they deserve to have it. That's the way their world works."

"I've met men like him." John shook his head, "They're not men."

"He thinks he is." Anna gathered a few of the farther pieces and John finished the area within his reach before hopping back to his crutches. "As it happened, he made advances toward me. Advances I rebuffed because I had no interest in him or what he was after."

"He's not wholly unattractive." John countered and Anna stopped. "I'm not arguing with the decision you made. He's a bastard and no mistake but I could see why other women might disagree."

"Are you making a suggestion about the caliber of women?"

"Not if I value my life."

Anna narrowed her eyes but continued, "As we're bound together in misery than it's nothing to tell you that shortly after that, and my complaints about my suspicions regarding Barrow, I found myself here." She shrugged, "And I did my job, as I thought I should."

"As you aid we all should."

"It keeps us alive, Mr. Bates." Anna sighed and leaned back to half-sit on the pile. "As it happened I was… braver, in those days. I challenged him and he expressed his displeasure but seemed tolerant of it at first. Almost as if it amused him to see me struggle with the life here."

"Sadist."

"Eventually all people grow tired of their toys, Mr. Bates, and he chose to teach me a lesson." John watched her hands flex and shift almost reflexively toward her back before clasping tightly in her lap. "The scars on my back, from the rod, aren't as bad anymore but when I was almost unconscious and bleeding he… he took other liberties with me."

"Bastard." John's hands gripped so tightly on the handholds of his crutches they cracked. "I'll kill him."

"I doubt that'd be wise." Anna shook her head, "And you'd have to get in line."

"I'll tear his legs off so he can't run away."

"I appreciate the symmetry to that." Anna sighed, "That's the lesson he threatened to 'reteach' me. It's… It's one of the reasons I'm petrified of him."

"It's a good reason."

"It's cowardice." Anna went to stand but John was but her side in a second, putting a hand on her arm. "I said I didn't want pity."

"I couldn't pity you." John shook his head slowly. "And I don't think it's cowardice. It's bravery. You're brave."

"I'm not brave, Mr. Bates." Anna's whole body sagged, as if the weight of the world finally expressed itself on her shoulders. "I'm… I'm glad it's out in the open. It means I don't have to wait for you to find me out because now I'm found out."

"Found out?"

"My shame's got nowhere to hide."

"Shame?" John reached for one of her hands but held it as gently as he could. "Why are you talking about shame? There's no shame here."

"I'm a coward, Mr. Bates, and I'm spoiled. What man would touch me now? What kind of person am I that I allowed that man to use me like that and then keep me here to torment and torture?" Anna shook her head so violently John was afraid her hair would fly right off her scalp. "I'm ruined, Mr. Bates."

"Then we'll be ruined together." John tapped his leg. "And you can't be spoiled. Not when you're…"

"When I'm what?"

John risked it, taking a deep breath, "When you're the strongest person I know. Not when you're made.. holier and higher to me because of the suffering that you've been put through and survived."

"I'm not a victim."

"Neither am I and yet…" John leaned on the crutches for emphasis. "We're all damaged in our own ways, Anna. There's no one who's not scared and shaped by the brutality of their individual experiences. We've just… born the wringer a bit more than most."

"The war with life's not an easy one to win."

"If you think of it as a war then definitely not." John examined the pile. "It's about like before."

"Yes." Anna took a breath, "Best get you back and survey the damage."

"Physical or mental?"

Anna stopped, "I don't think I can cure your mental damage."

John ducked his head as he reached for the wood pieces Green broke and held them in his hands while pressing his crutches to his sides. "I don't think anyone can cure that."

"What… What happened?" John did not meet her eyes so Anna continued. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pressed and I-"

"No," He shook his head, meeting her eyes as he started back toward his tent at a significantly reduced pace from earlier. "You shared your pains with me. I think it's only fair if I return the favor."

"It's not favor."

"Then the balance. They value that here." John summoned his breath, digging his hands into the handles of his crutches to propel himself forward. "I killed a boy, in India, by accident."

"By accident?"

"I was chasing a group of rebels in some tall grass and I heard the grass move. It was… It was instinct. I let off a shot and heard the boy's cry." John swallowed, as if he could force the lodged lump in his throat down. "I carried him back to his village and tried to give him back to his family."

"Did they take him?"

"I don't know. The villagers pelted me with rocks until I left." John took a breath. "I… I resigned my commission after that. It's what drove my wife to finally divorce me, which she'd been threatening to do for years while sleeping with superior officers of mine. And then I found the bottle as a way to drown my sorrows and the sounds from my mind."

"Did it work?"

John shook his head. "Branson, my partner, was a dishonorable discharge in India. He brought me to Hong Kong and then we came up to Beijing to start again but I almost drank our business dry."

"You worked in alcohol."

"I worked as an alcoholic. We worked as private investigators."

Anna snorted, "Wish you'd found my case and helped me solve this before we both ended up here."

"I wasn't in any state to help anyone. Not even myself." John gritted his teeth past the pain as he managed to make it to his tent. "Carlisle took me the barracks in Beijing, demanded I reenlist to help with a warlord or something here in Shan Dong and held me until I agreed but I never did."

"That's how you broke Barrow's nose?"

"I tried to get away. They chased me and…" John lowered himself back onto his cot. "You know the rest."

"I do." Anna took the crutches and knelt to examine his leg. "I'm sure we're both just a collection of wounds now."

"Isn't everyone?"

Anna shrugged and rolled John's trouser leg up. "Hopefully some less than others. I wouldn't wish mine on anyone."

"Me either." John waited, "So, Ms. Smith, will I live?"

"You'll be in pain but," Anna stood again. "It's nothing you've not handled before I'm sure."

"We'll handle it together." John held out a hand to her. "I do hope you know that your… secret, such as it is, is safe with me."

"I know." Anna took his hand. "My knight in shining armor."

John winced, "Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"Green did and…"

"Oh." Anna took a breath, "My friend then. Can I say that?"

"However, whatever, whenever."

Anna smiled, "Then I'll take what I can get."


	8. To Make it Real

He rubbed at his trouser leg just above the splint that kept his leg stiff except at the joint. The cane already sat easily in the grooves it carved from calloused blisters in his hand and his stance adapted to it. When standing he was a pillar. Walking however… he hated the limp there.

But early in the morning, hoping to evade the attentions of others and the heat promised by the gentle buzz in the air, he worked his way toward the river. Walking sideways helped him down the embankment with little sound and he measured his steps carefully to where the waterfall's pool lapped at the shore so he would not have far to move. Bracing his cane against a pile of rocks, he proceeded to reach for his shirt when he heard a noise.

John turned, mindful of his leg, and scanned the bank. No one showed themselves in the gray light so he turned to the water, pulling his shirt from his body as he went. Catching the sight of his thin body from the corner of his eyes, John shuddered and hurried to focus back on the water. Except for the waterfall the water was calm and smooth. The only noises John could discern, as he strained to try and hear anything over the pounding of the water, were the native birds waking the world with their calls.

With a shrug he set his fingers to his trousers and shucked them down his legs with his socks and shoes. A slight chill to the air brought a shiver and John noted the rippling wafts of steam coming up off the water as he arranged his things on the rocks. Then, with his thumbs in the waistband of his pants, he hurried those down his legs as well.

Another noise almost had him toppling himself in the hurry to turn. His feet stepped clear of his pants, leaving them in a heap at the base of the rocks, and turned in a swift circle. As his eyes reached the water again he stopped.

Anna's head held over the serene surface and John bent double to try and bring his pants up to cover himself. Her little laugh stopped him and John only managed to drop them on top of the pile he already made. His hands crossed before him as Anna swam forward to the edge of the water and stood. Water sluiced off her body and John's mouth went so dry he swallowed three times before he could eliminate the scratch there.

"Coming for a bath?" She clawed her fingers through her hair, shaking it out behind her before twisting it so water droplets ran from it in a storm. When it stopped her allowed her hair to drape over her shoulder but it hid nothing from his vision. He could only nod helplessly as she glided out of the water, practically sauntering toward him. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you."

"Yes." John nodded furiously, overcompensating for lack of motion with exuberance and wincing as he tried to effectively mask his bodily reaction.

Anna reached him, her eyes glancing down and her eyebrow raising at the sight before her, before meeting John's eyes. "See something you like, Mr. Bates?"

John tried to swallow again, his arms now hanging uselessly at his side as if in surrender to the water nymph before him. "Very much."

"Well," Her placed a hand, still hinting at dampness, on his chest and pushed him back the half-step to the rocks behind him. "Take care how you touch it then."

John's eyes widened and he struggled to form words, "You mean you want-"

Anna nodded. "Very much so."

"Wha- I…" John coughed as Anna's fingers dragged her nails over his skin. "Why? Why do you want me?"

"I was the one who treated your wounds when you first arrived, Mr. Bates, and I had a more than impeccable view then." Her smile curled the ends of her mouth a moment before settling to something a bit more resigned. "More than that, you're the first person I've met in a long time who gives a damn about me. The first person who ever wanted to fight for me and that…"

She blinked and John frowned at the haze of tears threatening in her eyes. But, a moment later, they were gone. "That means something to me, Mr. Bates."

"And this is my reward?"

"I'd consider it my reward."

John's tentative hand settled on Anna's hip but the frown that, a moment ago, vanished reappeared as his fingers felt something. Anna caught his eye and turned, giving him an unhindered view of her back. He said nothing as he traced the crisscrossing lines that marred her skin. The deeper ones still howled the echo of red while others had the white sheen of healed over skin. Raised scar tissue bumped and pitted as he left the view sink into reality by his touch until he reached the rise of her ass.

Anna turned back around, shrugging and holding her hair so her arms crossed her body, as if to hide from him now. "Frightening, aren't they?"

"Terribly." John breathed and took the same hand to wrap over one of hers. She shivered a moment but he led her hand to his leg and the mass of puckered scars and inflamed skin there. He traced her hands over the area until there was no more ground left to cover. "Disgusting, aren't they?"

"Horrifying." Anna nodded and closed the distance between them. "I'm not asking you to be my whore, Mr. Bates, any more than I would propose myself as one to you. But I do know that even people as broken as we are could find solace in one another, even if for an hour."

"Ms. Smith," John closed his hands over hers and leaned down to her ear. "If I were going to… ravish you, it'd be far more than an hour."

Anna shivered again but John's lips turned up in a smile as he recognized the difference between the two reactions. "How much time would you need?"

"Depends on how long it would take to properly seduce you." John let his teeth graze her earlobe before trailing toward her jaw, "You could last for hours if I wanted to hold you torturously on the edge of pleasure."

"In other circumstances I might suspect you're being overly ambitious."

"Imagine it." John pulled back to meet her eyes a moment while his fingers touched and tapped over her skin. "You'd be quivering, vibrating with all your unspent energy that just begged for release, and I'd keep you trembling until even the slightest of touches would send you over the edge. Every minute waiting, desperate, for that touch but I'd deny you. Deny you until, when you thought there was no hope, you'd tip over the edge."

His fingers taunted just above the crux of her thighs. "But only if you wanted it. I'd like to seduce you first but, as you say, we're one another's reward."

"I think," Anna's hands mapped a simple trail over his chest and she pressed close, their hips touching so John's arousal trapped between them. "I'd like to see how you'd seduce me."

"Have we got time?"

Anna tipped her head back and over her shoulder slightly, John letting his fingers play in the strands of her hair until she faced him again. "About two hours before it'd be suspicious that we're gone."

"It's a bit rocky here for what I'd have in mind."

Anna took his hand, "Follow me."

John trailed a bit more slowly behind her, the limp in his leg keeping their pace even, as Anna guided them into the water. The bite of it, opposing the morning chill, had John hissing and glancing between his legs. She turned back and smiled at him before sliding into the water.

"I'm sure you'll still do just fine."

He coughed and pushed into the water after her, following her toward the waterfall's merciless beat on the pool. They skirted it and Anna guided them behind the wall of water to a cave. A cave with a smoother stone floor covered in moss that John dug his fingers into when he lifted himself from the water.

Anna opened her arms, turning a circle that sent her wet hair spinning water droplets outward, and smiled at John as he stood. "It's a bit better than uncovered rock but not much."

"It's private." John noted, taking in Anna's form again as he remained where he was. "Which means we won't have to worry about anyone seeing us."

"Probably for the best." Anna came toward him again, the saunter back in her hips. "I'd rather not share the view."

"Likewise." John brought his hands up to repeat the earlier tickling motion that barely touched her skin. "But there's another reason."

"Oh?" Anna's grin deepened and she looped her arms around his shoulders to rub her body over his warming erection. "Not an exhibitionist?"

"Not really but I was more worried about you."

"Seeking to preserve my modesty?"

"I don't know how loud you are." John ran his tongue over his lips. "And I'd hate to cut our first time short if anyone happened to believe there was something to see and came to investigate."

"Very wise of you."

"I've had more than a few encounters when someone's not careful when others are around." John leaned forward, "How do you want this?"

"You're giving me a choice?"

"It was your idea." John waited, watching the evidence of calculations whizzing behind Anna's eyes. "There are many ways I'd like to do this but you're the one who suggested it, which suggests to me that you've something in mind."

"I'm sure there are a few things I've in mind but…" Anna's tongue licked over her lips but John noted the nerves in the movements. "It's been some time for me and the last time wasn't-"

"That time wasn't anything like this." John's hands stopped, holding lightly at Anna's waist but keeping her in place. "I won't do that to you."

"I know." She nodded, "It's part of the reason I'd want this with you."

"I'll not disappoint you." John let his hands go on her skin, skating up to curve one around her jaw. "Tell me what you want and I'd give it to you."

"Just you." Anna's chest rose against his, her breathing sharper as her fingers dug for a hold in his skin. "Just you."

John closed the distance, bringing their lips together. Anna's fingers hurried and dragged over him, folding skin in her grip, until she found a secure hold. His hand shifted from her jaw to the back of her neck, holding there as he angled his mouth to slant over hers and allow them better access. Their lips mashed together and John seized on the opportunity when her tongue darted out. Her moan, as he took hold of her tongue to suck it gently, fed his every desire while his fingers stroked the back of her neck toward her hair.

The moss under their feet slid and slipped, sending John's other hand out to catch them on the wall behind Anna. She sighed into the kiss, one of her hands now gripping the back of his neck like a lifeline, and paused to blink lazily up at him. It took only a moment for John to abandon the caress of her neck and hair to trace the slight swell to her lips before he ran the backs of his fingers over her cheeks. Her chest pressed against his with each deep inhale and John took his turn to groan at the pressure of her breasts against his skin.

"I'm going to touch you." He whispered, one hand still holding the wall behind her as he eased her back against it and slipped a leg between hers to spread them. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

"Don't stop." Anna's nails pricked at his skin, preparing to sink in like claws as John's other hand left her face and maneuvered between their bodies.

Their eyes stayed connected, watching one another closely as John's knuckles drifted over her nerves. Anna quivered and jumped slightly when he pressed a bit harder there before easing his tough. John narrowed his eyes slightly, watching for Anna's reactions as he slid the blade of his hand between her legs and ran a finger down her seam. She shuddered and dug her nails in, threating gouges later but John also noted the dilation of her pupils.

Separating two fingers, he curved them slightly to draw back along the length of her but kept her folds snug between them. A tug at the end of, his thumb pressing at her nerves, let John wince at the half-moon indentations on the back of his neck and shoulders. Anna's eyes scrunched closed and her breathing hitched when John repeated the motion in the other direction but kept his thumb rubbing and pressing at her clit. Then, just when her fingers loosened their hold on his neck, John slid a finger insider her.

Anna tried to bite off the noise, her gasping moan that echoed around the cave before shattering in the water, but John heard it. His finger slid inside her, pumping gently to open her before adding another finger and maneuvering his body so his thumb could run over her clit in countering motions. Her legs trembled on either side of his and her nails raked down his shoulders to hold his forearms as he continued. And when he crooked his fingers inside her, adding a third to reach that spot he knew existed, Anna broke.

Her cries filled the cave and John held her steady as she quivered and whimpered in his arms. The shivers and shudders of her body fit the arch of her neck as she pressed her head against the rock to try and find a solid source to reattune her body. But John just set to attacking that arch of her neck with kisses and nips until he used his tongue along the line of reddening marks he left.

With her body still crackling around him, John responded to the lift of one of her hands lifting his face to hers. She brought their lips together, controlling the kiss with all the fiery finesse of someone drunk on a sensation and blindly searching for more, and John gave over to it. His hand left the wall and her back thumped against it but Anna did not react expect to plunge her tongue into his mouth as invitation for him to suck and grasp around it.

But she broke the kiss just as quickly, her calming leg wrapping his hip to bring him closer. John grunted and grit his teeth when Anna angled her hips to run the wet results of his work along the length of him. He tried to pull back, to readjust and control the angle, but Anna's nails in his side and the ones now digging their own rivulets into his ass stopped him. Their eyes met and Anna nodded once.

"Do it now." She reached one hand between them, the other still firmly clutching the flesh of his ass as if that would control his direction. "And don't be gentle. I don't want you to be gentle."

"But-"

"I don't need you to be gentle." Anna's hand along the length of his drew him in concert with the slide of her hips until John could barely breath as he twitched in her grip. "We'll be gentle later."

John surged forward to take her mouth, distracting her for a moment so her hand fluttered away from him, and then drove forward. Her back hit the wall with the force of his drive and both of them staggered. A flutter of movement had Anna raising her legs and John using both hands behind her thighs to lift her fully from the floor and drive into her as deeply as he could go.

A shriek ripped past his ear and John held still, his right leg shaking slightly at his ill-advised decision, waiting for Anna to move. Her legs tightened at his hips for a moment before his hands spread her wider and pulled to the edge before driving back into her. Instead of using her legs for leverage, Anna now committed to marking his skin as if she would leave reminders of the scars she bore on his shoulders and back. John did not mind, losing himself to thrust and release of their joining until Anna's walls clung tightly around him.

He gritted his teeth, burying his face in the nook provided to him where her neck met her shoulder, and held long enough to shift slightly. John's heels dug into the mossy floor, finding enough purchase to keep himself upright as one hand surrendered a secure hold on her spread thighs to snake between their bodies again. Anna hitched in his grip, sounds escaping the back of her throat that he kissed and tried to uncover when his fingers worked in tandem with his thrusts, and John moved faster.

She clung around him, mimicking her earlier clutch of his fingers, and John almost bit the end of his tongue as he tried to strike harder against her. Their skin caught and struck, the wet slap of their sexes joining in contrast to the friction generated from the water drying on their bodies. But nothing could stop him as he drove forward, the piston of his hips primal in goal and ignorant of all other functions or pains. The goal was in sight and when Anna let out another cry, John followed soon after with his own animalistic grunt into her skin. The only coherent sound he could make to try and express himself.

They staggered and stumbled a moment as they separated and slid away from the wall. John caught himself just before tumbling onto his ass and sat back on the mossy floor of the cave as Anna's back followed the wall to the floor. The only sound, other than the unrelenting pound of the water beating the pool into submission, was their breathing. Loud and rasping it filled the cave until John could finally meet Anna's eyes.

Holding one another's gaze, it was almost like a standoff to see who would blink first until she moved her legs under her. Crouching for a second, Anna crawled over to him and stopped just short of his bent legs. John could only watch her as she straightened them out and moved just over his body to put her hand on his chest. With splayed fingers flattening her palm over his heartbeat, Anna pushed John to the mossy floor.

He blinked, watching in helpless fascination as Anna set her lips to work over his chest. Every line of muscle, every hint or a bruise or scar, and every contour presented from age and use became a playground of exploration under her tongue and teeth. John's fingers dug into the moss under him, ripping some from the floor as his body writhed under her attentions. But when her hand settled over his member he tried to stop her.

Anna blinked at him, pausing with her fingers so close John imagined he could feel the heat arcing between them, and waited. John swallowed but held her gaze. "I'm a bit sensitive… after."

"I'll be gentle." Anna bent, kissing just over his hipbone as her fingers pushed her hair back behind her ear. "This is when we're going to be gentle Mr. Bates."

John groaned and let his head rock back, knocking harder than he intended to against the stone under him. But, true to her word, Anna kept herself contained. Her kisses darted close to him before veering off. Her fingers teased and taunted toward his base or his tip or his sack before massaging at his thighs. And when she left a kiss on him, John's hips bucked to continue the motion but Anna left him to leave kisses tracing the length and breadth of the scars on his leg.

When she finished John recognized the tightening of his body. The tingling motion at the base of his spine that coincided with the steady rise of his arousal as Anna approached it again. This time she took him firmly in hand and began her squeezing caresses that brought sounds from John's chest and throat he never thought he could make. Sounds he only outmatched when she licked the length of him while fondling the hanging sack between his legs. He jerked under her attentions, half-formed sentences attempting to distract her intentions, but Anna persisted until she set her lips around him.

The gentle suck was enough to clack John's teeth together. When her tongue darted into the slit as if to measure him out, he saw stars. And the ache in his jaw only persisted when she swallowed as much of him as she could while working her hands around his base and sack. His hips bucked and snapped with abandon now and his hands scrambled for a hold anywhere he could reach. Something to ground him while Anna continued her assault.

It proved unnecessary a moment later.

Just as the swell threatened to bring John's pleasure to a climactic finish, Anna drew back. She licked over her lips, working her jaw a moment before letting her lips curl into an almost leering smile. The smile she maintained as she put her knees on either side of his hips and positioned herself over him. John reached for her, tried to aid her, but Anna's hands proved adept enough and she sank herself to the hilt on him.

His eyes rolled back into his head at the scorching clutch of her around him. The earlier damp sensation, mixed with what he knew was his earlier release, whitened his knuckles as they gripped at the stone floor. He even imagined he heard the crack of a stone he managed to work his fingers under as he bent his wrist to hold that instead of grabbing Anna's hips to plunge mercilessly into her until he could release again.

Anna shifted, sending another spasm of pleasure through him at the momentarily release and hold of her walls. Heaving air into his lungs, and forcing his eyes open, John watched as Anna leaned over him so her hands covered his. She applied no pressure or weight but that of her fingers gently prying his hands free of their hold on the floor. He could only watch as she placed them on her shoulders before drawing his calloused palms to her breasts.

Frozen, both of them trying to ignore the tiny adjustments and shifts of their bodies wanting to move, it became another contest of wills. John forced his throat to swallow, nostrils flaring to try and force air into his deflating lungs, and let his hands shape her breasts. Each caress, each molding of her skin, each deep knead of the muscles had Anna rocking against him. John lifted slightly to gain a better hold on her breasts and bit down his own grin when Anna moaned at the slide of him along her walls. When he moved up enough to have her chest within reach of his mouth, John took hold of a nipple between his teeth. He sucked until he saw stars and Anna's motions went wild around him.

She rolled her hips against him, bouncing when she could manage to gain the leverage of her feet under her, and then pushed John back to the floor. His mouth lost the hold on her breast but Anna snatched for his hands again, returning them to their former occupation of adoring her from a distance. John stayed in that position while Anna controlled their movements until he noted the flag in her strength.

Abandoning one of her breasts, John gripped for her hip and held her still and he thrust into her. His legs bent toward his body, Anna leaning gratefully back against them before groaning as the movement pulled her body to angle him against those places inside her that brought the beautiful noises from her throat, and John forsook the other breast to hold both hips now. Ignoring the warning of pain lancing through his knee, John thrust persistently into Anna with his hips crashing back to the stone floor enough to threaten bruises along his tailbone and ass.

He did not care. All that mattered was the woman gasping and crying out above him while her fingers sought to replicate his earlier motions. Motions John helped her achieve as his fingers covered hers in a quick lesson. Quick enough for her to seek her pleasure and, accidently, brush along him in the process. If not for the view that already had his teeth on edge, the touch of her fingers delicately scraping along him would have sent him over into orgasm. But John held out, absorbed with the view of watching Anan writhe above him and noting the shining slickness along his exposed length when he withdrew from her…. Just before he buried himself as deeply as he could again.

They shunted and rutted against one another, John's fingers digging bruises into her hips to match the ones she already had from the wall. Anna's hands wrapped into her hair and then clawed her fingers into John's chest for support while trying to match his speed at her clit. Another adjustment and John broke in a rush, body crashing into the frenetic final motions of his finish. Anna's distant cries, almost inaudible over the burn of blood in his ears, let John sigh with the knowledge she came with him.

Harsh breathing matched the beat of the water as they settled. John's legs straightened out again, his right knee twitching and shifting to try and resolve the pain echoing there, and his body collapsed against the mossy stone. Anna's lighter form draped over him, shifting just enough to slip John free of her hold as he slackened but leaving a trail between them.

Their chests pressed together again and John tilted his head enough to see Anna's face. Her eyes were closed and the force of her breathing regulated her enough to finally allow them to flutter open. Their eyes met and Anna's shaking hand raised to run along the plane of his face. They did not speak as she leaned forward and kissed him.

Not as deeply as before or with the fiery passion they shared but with just enough effort to be more than appreciation. John did not look away as she rested back and rolled onto her back next to him. A turn of their heads allowed them to see one another sideways while their bodies cooled on the moss in the chilling cave.

"Can I confess something to you?" Her fingers grazed his arm and John nodded, afraid his voice might break the ease between them. "I'm not just a nurse."

"Does Green know that?"

Anna shook her head, hair catching in the tendrils of moss. "He, like Lieutenant Barrow, think I'm just a nurse who worked for the Army. They've no idea who I am."

"Who are you?" John frowned, "Is it something that'd destroy you if they knew the truth?"

"It's something they could use to their advantage." Anna sighed, her eyes following the track of her fingers over his arm. "Something I wouldn't want them to know, in case they tried to… Tried to take more from me than they already have."

"Did Carlisle know?"

Anna shook her head again. "The only person who knows lives in Hong Kong and I can only pray she's not anyone they know."

"Who lives in Hong Kong?"

"Lady Mary Crawley and her husband, the eighth Earl of Grantham." Anna shivered, her fingers stopping at John's shoulder. "I've known them my entire life and they're the only ones who know my secret."

"Why?"

"Because they grew up with me and they know my title." Anna looked him in the eye. "I'm the heir to the duchy of Ravensbruch."

John lifted himself onto his elbow, studying her. "You're a duchess?"

Anna nodded, "Eighth Duchess of Ravensbruch."

"Why are you here?"

"I didn't want to spend my life in ballrooms." Anna shrugged, leaning back into the moss. "I didn't want to spend my life living in the shadows of others while great halls entombed me."

"And now you're here." John settled back onto the ground. "Living in the middle of nowhere and slowly dying with the rest of us."

"This is what I got for my arrogance." Anna gave a bitter laugh. "The great lady who thought she could be more than that and got this for her trouble."

John chewed his tongue a moment before turning back to her. "I hope you don't think this is justice."

"What?" Her brow furrowed and she looked at him. "What does that mean?"

"I hope you don't think that what you've suffered here is equivalent punishment for arrogance or whatever you think it is."

"You think I deserve better than this?"

"Everyone deserves better than this." John sighed, his fingers questing over her face. "You deserve better than this."

Anna tipped herself onto her elbow to kiss him. John accepted the slow motions of her lips on his, reveling in the smooth glide of her fingers through his hair as he tilted to move over her. Her legs opened to accept him but John broke the kiss to trail down her body.

Her fingers continued to card into his hair, her legs shifting along his side as he took her breasts into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around her nipple, his hands molding against her skin as one grabbed the other breast, John moved with Anna as she arched under him. The writhe of her body guided him lower as his hands continued adoring her breasts. And when he dipped his tongue into her navel, Anna sank her nails into the back of his head.

John tilted his head up slightly, meeting Anna's eyes as his hands glided down her torso to hold her hips, and then ducked down to suck hard at her clit. Anna's shriek echoed and rebounded through the cave but John continued, dragging his tongue along the seam of her to taste the combination there. He dipped with the point of his tongue into her, swirling around before pulling her folds between her lips as if her could kiss her as thoroughly there as he did at her mouth.

She bucked and rocked against him, her fingers trying to guide the motions of his head until John brought one of his hands lower, dipping inside her to find the places that made her cry out. Anna whimpered, her eyes scrunching shut when John wrapped his tongue around her to pull and suckle it the way he had her breasts. And when her hips urged him up, John raised his head while driving his fingers more deeply inside her.

"I can't… I can't… It's too much." Her head tossed on the moss and John adjusted his position to kiss her abdomen between her gasps. "Please just finish me. I can't take more."

"But you're so wet Anna." John soothed, running his lips to her thighs and kissing there as he added a third finger. "And there's a quiver here that tells me your body's ready to come."

"Let me."

"I will." John brought his lips back to her clit. "It'll only take a moment."

His lips closed around her again and she came. The vibrations running through her body continued as John coaxed her higher, sent her body rolling into another orgasm just after the first with a determined suck at her clit. And, when she calmed slightly, her vaginal walls still clinging to his fingers as her legs trembled around him, John dragged his hand free.

The rise and fall of her chest reminded him of horses pushed until they lathered, the hoarse gasp for air keeping him from kissing her lips until she calmed. Satisfying himself with her breasts, collar, and neck, John shifted forward to run the length of him along her weeping folds as her hands ran over him. When she turned her lips to his, taking hold of his mouth to suck the taste of herself from him, John thrust forward.

Anna cried out again, quivering around him as he settled inside her. They held still and even when Anna raised her hips to encourage him faster John held back. She broke the kiss, almost frantic in her search of his face with dilated eyes, but John let his hand brush through her hair for a moment.

"Slow." He urged, his voice low as he kiss the spot where her jaw met her neck. "Slow and gentle now Anna."

Her body tried to fight it, tried to angle to force him faster or dig her nails into his ass again but John held off. The tremble in her body eased until they moved together, rocking gently against one another as they found ways to tease out the temptations of pleasure with little motions and prolonged efforts. John dipped to take Anna's breasts with his kisses again, sending her into paroxysms of prolonged pleasure, while adjusting his hold on her ass to bring their hips shunting together.

The reverberations of their grunts, gasps, groans, and guttural utterings turned into ragged breaths and half-conceived moans until Anna's vaginal walls clamped on John. He clenched his jaw as he pushed through the tightening muscles, determined to help her find pleasure for a final time, and brought her fingers to her clit. She shifted against them, fingers slipping to touch him as she tried to bring herself over the edge, and John gave over to it.

They settled, their bodies finishing as John held himself above her. With a shift he moved to his side, so he did not crush her with his weight, and lay back on the moss. Anna's chest rose and fell but eventually settled as she pushed herself to sit up. Her hand moved through her hair, forcing it back from her face to trail down her back. John reached a finger forward, playing with the ends of it before letting his finger tease down her lower back toward her ass.

Anna swatted his hand away, looking down at him over her shoulder. "We've not got time for that."

"We're out of time already?" John forced himself to sit up, digging his knuckles into his knee to try and work out the stiffness there.

"If we don't want to be caught together." Anna stood, John admiring the view of her from his angle and allowed a small smile at the sight of their actions still shining on her legs. "It'd be unwise."

"Not as if this was wise." John stood, wincing as he moved to strand as straight as he could given the condition of his leg. "It's possible I could've gotten you pregnant because of what we did and I don't think Green'll let me marry you to make an honest women of you and an honest man of me."

Anna shook her head, putting her hand out to caress over his face. "You're a very noble man, Mr. Bates, and it means a great deal to me that you're worried about my virtue."

"Shouldn't I be?"

"No." Anna took a deep breath, "I can't have children, Mr. Bates. Green… Green took that from me already."

John swallowed, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I can't-"

"John," Anna put her hand over his mouth. "Don't pity me, please."

John used one hand to remove hers from his mouth as the other skated up the scars on her back to pull her to him. "I could never pity you. I'm just sorry I can't do more to help."

"You've already done more than most would." Anna kissed him, holding it as long as they could before she broke away. "I'll leave first. Wash… a bit, and then go back to camp. Follow me but go straight to the mess tent."

"Yes ma'am." John smiled at her as she went to step back into the water. "Will this be our place?"

"Our place?"

"For… this?" John shrugged a shoulder, "Our more clandestine meetings?"

"Perhaps." Anna worked into the water. "I guess we'll see."

With that she dived into the water and disappeared from view, swimming away from him. John eased to the edge of the water, watching her refracted form through the falls, and waited until he could no longer see her on the beach. Putting himself into the water he could only groan.

"What've you gotten yourself into John?"


	9. The Price of Peace

John sagged onto the bench and massaged his leg. Someone took the spot opposite him and John's eyebrows almost hit his hairline at the sight of Anna. "I've not seen you for a few days."

"Been busy trying to save the dying." Anna nodded at his leg. "Still giving you undue trouble?"

"Not sure I even know what that is anymore." John sighed, "It's just stiff from being in one place for too long."

"I don't think I've heard that work as a foreman was boring."

John shrugged, "It's a little more than boring, I admit, but my crew's good so I spend most of my time just watching."

"Like a hawk?"

"Close to." John moved his fingers back toward his knee, grinding his knuckles deep into the skin. "It stiffens up."

"Maybe you should take up Tai Chi Quan." John frowned and Anna hurried to explain, swirling her spoon in the soup. "It's something the older generation does. It's an exercise that's all about muscle control."

"Is this a crack about my age, Ms. Smith?"

She snorted into her soup, shaking her head. "Your age is the last thing I could use against you, Mr. Bates."

"And why's that?"

"It's helpful to have the patience you develop, at a certain age, without flagging in energy." John choked on his soup a moment, noting the glint in Anna's eye as she took a spoonful of soup. "I've found you're just fine in every way, Mr. Bates, so I wouldn't worry yourself overmuch about your age."

"You wouldn't?"

"Stop fishing for compliments you vain creature." Anna stabbed her spoon toward him. "We were talking about how to ease the pain in your leg."

"Our never-ending crusade." John smiled back, taking a spoon to his own bowl of plain broth with floating green bits that pretended as vegetables. "What is Tai Chi Quan anyway?"

"It's a bit like shadow boxing but more about complete muscle control." Anna sucked soup from her spoon. "And they'd teach you that too."

"Who'd teach me shadow boxing?"

"Those who get up at the crack of dawn to perform their Tai Chi Quan."

John bit at his cheek before leaning toward her. "Wouldn't that interfere with any potential plans we had for the early morning hours?"

"Maybe." Anna shrugged, "But it wouldn't hurt, in that vein, to increase your flexibility and muscle control."

"Perhaps not." John shrugged, going back to his soup. "But that's not boxing."

"What's not boxing?" Anna frowned and John shared the expression a moment. "You just said it's not boxing but I don't follow."

"You are taking about the fighting style, yes? Shadow boxing?" Anna nodded and John scoffed into his broth, "That's not boxing. Not where I'm from."

"It may not be a back alley brawl but it's still boxing."

"We fight in rings, thank you."

"It's a martial art. The idea of foot strikes, heel strikes, kicks, throws, and swift cuts with your hand instead of just blows from your fists." Anna used her spoon to direct John's attention to an older man sitting down at one of the far tables. John watched as the men around the gentleman bowed their heads to him, moving out of his way so he could take a more comfortable seat. "That's Mr. Ke, the one in charge of the morning gatherings where they practice before the workday starts."

"He leads them?"

"He's one of the elders here and so, in a way, yes." Anna put down her spoon, folding her arms to lean toward John over the table. "Green calls him 'Carson' because he can't be bothered to learn anyone's actual names around here."

"Like he does with Mrs. He?" Anna nodded and John noted the way her tongue seemed to sculpt her teeth in her mouth. "What is it?"

"I was…" She sighed, "I was just thinking about you."

"I'm right here." John opened his arms toward her, "What's there to think about that you can't just ask me?"

"I don't know if I even have a question formulated that I would ask." Anna glanced down at the table before meeting his eyes again. "I was… I was curious how set you are in your pacifist ways."

"I never claimed pacifism."

"But you did say you were done fighting other people's war."

"That's true and I still am." John paused, studying Anna's face. "What, hoping to encourage a rebellion with your shadow boxers? You do remember how that went the last time someone attempted it?"

"It was called the Boxer Rebellion and ended rather badly for the Chinese, yes, I'm aware." Anna shuddered, "I was here when it happened."

"Then you'll understand why I'd be leery about joining in on another."

"If I were suggesting s rebellion, yes."

"But you're not?"

Anna shook her head, "No. I'd never engage in anything that would put these people in danger."

"Then what are you suggesting?"

"Other than ingratiating yourself with Mr. Ke by joining his morning salutations, not much."

"Not much?"

"I…" Anna sighed, shaking her head before starting again. "I think you might also consider another way to get to know the men you oversee."

"Not sure that getting to know the locals is really going to help me win their favor when I represent the whip. They see me as the enemy."

"They're not that stupid."

"No?" John made a show of looking around the table. "I don't happen to see any of them vying to take seats at any table I occupy."

"Maybe if your leg didn't take up two chairs on its own then there'd be room for more seats at this table." Anna shot back, drinking the rest of her bowl. She set it to the side before speaking again. "But my point is this, you need friends."

"My social calendar is all full for the moment."

Anna scowled, "I'm being serious."

"As am I." John pointed at her, "You're the one who said I should keep my head down and not anger the beast. I can't imagine Green'll take too kindly to me getting chummy with his slaves."

"They need to know you, John."

"Why?"

Anna opened her mouth, closed it, sighed, and closed her eyes to breathe steadily a moment before facing him. "Did you ever read poetry, as a child?"

"I've got a few tucked away." John narrowed his eyes, "Why?"

"Do you know who Henry Van Dyke is?"

"Can't say I read him in school."

"He has a poem, _The Price of Peace_ , that I think you could do with learning."

"Afraid I'm getting too comfortable with war?" John leaned over the table toward her. "For someone once singing the song of silence and a bowed head, your tune's taken to changing."

"Perhaps you changed my mind." Anna sucked in her cheeks. "I do seem to remember a certain cave, not far from here, where we had a rather wonderful experience I wouldn't have considered when I was setting your leg."

John shuffled in his seat, "What's that got to do with poetry?"

"Other than the obvious?" John only frowned and Anna continued, "Van Dyke's poem says:

 _Peace without Justice is a low estate,_

 _A coward cringing to an Iron Fate!_

 _But Peace through Justice is the great ideal;_

 _We'll pay the price of war to make it real._ "

John shrugged, "Pretend I'm obtuse and have no idea what you're implying."

"I'm saying that you've given up." Anna motioned around them. "You've allowed a kind of peace here but there's no justice to that peace. It's the coward's way out and you've taken it."

"As have you or do you remember the five lives Green picked at random for daily slaughter if you allowed me to die?"

Anna's jaw tightened, "I remember."

"Then don't talk to me about living a coward's peace when I'm only living the same peace here that you are."

"That's not what I was saying."

"And you're suggesting I wage war? You, who said this was a place where hope doesn't exist and we should just give in to death?" Anna did not answer so John continued, "I read poems in school too and there's one, by Saint Augustine, that says:

 _Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains,_

 _At the huge waves of the sea,_

 _At the long courses of the rivers,_

 _At the vast compass of the ocean,_

 _At the circular motions of the stars,_

 _And they pass themselves without wondering._ "

"It's beautiful."

"Do you know what that means?" Anna raised her eyebrows at him and John continued. "It means that we're ignoring what's right in front of us. We spend all of our time with our heads looking up without realizing what's staring us in the face."

"And what do you think's staring you in the face?"

"Despair." John lowered his voice, "My only wish is to get out of this hellhole. To go back to the life I had before too many people thought I was someone I'm not anymore. I don't want to learn Tai Chi Quan, I don't want to learn shadow boxing, and I don't want to make friends here. I just want to survive long enough to get out and never come back."

"That's it then?"

John nodded, finishing his soup. "It's what you taught me to do and I've decided I'll take your advice. Keep my head down, my nose clean, and maybe not die here to be buried in a mass grave."

"John-"

"No," John shook his head. "This was the person you advised me to be. This is the person I am now."

"I said that we've a responsibility here, not to abandon all hope." Anna pointed at him, "That was all your idea."

"I was suffering from a broken leg."

"No," Anna shook her head, pushing up from the table. "I know a bit more about you now than I did then, Mr. Bates, and I know you gave up a long time ago. What you're spitting back at me now, those are just excuses."

"I'm sure you've got a book of them you keep under your pillow for when your nightmares wake you at night."

"Not as thick as yours, I'd imagine."

John stared after her, glaring at the few eyes that dared cast in their direction at the rise of heat in the argument. After a few moments, chatter returned to the tent and John got up to leave. As he did, leg flexing a bit more as the threat of swelling dissipated, John caught Mr. Ke's eye. The two of them shared a moment of study before John turned out of the tent.

Stumping back to his tent, John batted the flap aside to see Anna standing inside. She pulled at her wrists, fingers interlocking, and took a breath before speaking. "What I said… In the mess tent…"

John shook his head, "It wasn't as if I was giving you much choice."

"But still." Anna let out a breath, "I should never have called you a coward. That's not what you are and I know better than that."

"And you're not the one encouraging me to keep my head down." John sat on the cot, setting his cane to the side and loosening his split so the pieces of it folded like the rolled bamboo sticks some of the workers consulted. "That's on me."

Anna pointed to the chair next to the rickety desk John inherited from his predecessor and he nodded. She took the seat, perched on the edge, and interlaced her fingers. But her hands continued to move, as if speaking were difficult. "You… You don't know what you can offer here, John."

He blinked, "I'm sorry."

"When you first came, bruised and broken, I thought that perhaps you were another tool to be mended and then slowly watch die but then…" Her focus drifted to the corner of the tent, as if remembering a series of lost details. "You recovered faster than I thought possible. You pushed yourself and even when your self-recriminations were… counterproductive, you still persisted. You refused to stop."

"And that told you what?"

"It told me that maybe, for the first time, there was someone here who could help us. Someone to give that push we need for success."

John frowned, "Us?"

Anna nodded, "I wanted you to meet Mr. Ke for more than just your physical health. More than just him being an elder that the people here respect."

"Then what?"

"He's the one who gives me victims."

John almost shot straight to his feet and might have if not for the shooting pain in his leg at the sudden jerk. "Your what?"

Anna put up her hands, "It sounds bad but it's not what you're thinking right now, I promise you."

"I think that you're either Lizzie Borden or you're Mary-Anne Cotton and at the moment I don't know which is worse."

"I can promise I've not taken an axe to anyone." Anna frowned at him, "If you keep trying to stand on that leg you'll put yourself back in recovery."

John gingerly retook his seat, his eyes never leaving Anna's. "Was I going to be one of your 'victims' or were you saving me for something else?"

"If you'll allow me to finish and not be so dramatic you'll realize that it was just a poor choice of words."

"Wasn't it just?"

Anna rolled her eyes and sighed at him, "What I was trying to say, is that you can help us complete our work."

"And who's the other part of this 'us' and if the work is anything of the Mary Shelley variety then you can-"

"Get stuffed and shut it." Anna snapped and John's jaw clamped shut on it's own. "The 'us', since you're so curious, is Mr. Ke, Mrs. He, and I. We've been working to develop a toxin that replicates the symptoms of the poison Juliet took in Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_."

John blinked, "What?"

"There are certain fish, native to the region of Japan, that have toxins that can cause paralysis and death. If derived properly and treated, they can simulate death in the user without causing their hearts to actually stop." Anna shrugged, "Mr. Ke was the one who suggested it."

"He's got experience with Japanese fish?"

"He grew up in an area of China known for a group of monks who train in something called the Shao Lin forms. Mostly of the martial arts but they also train and practice deep meditative styles that lower the heart rate and respiratory functions. The kind of functions we need to simulate death."

"Hence why Mr. Ke is the one teaching everyone to shadow box?"

"He's the one with the training, yes." Anna waited a moment before continuing. "He wasn't sure about you and doubted I should let you in on our 'goings-on' but I convinced him you'd help us."

"Help you do what? Find more victims?" John snorted, "I thought we weren't supposed to get ideas about caring as it put the lives of others at risk."

"You like to harp on things without realizing the gravity of play acting, don't you?" Anna scowled at him as she continued. "It was part of a cover. Green can't suspect that he never hears about. And he'd never hear it from me."

"You'd expect him to hear it from me?"

"I didn't, no."

John nodded, "But your Mr. Ke did?"

"It's already a delicate operation that takes training, time, and secrecy. Each applicant is carefully cultivated so no one is the wiser and each one can quietly slip away without being noticed."

"Because Green thinks they're dead?"

Anna nodded, "Yes. It's a complicated process but we've perfected it in the last year and we're ready to move forward on a… swifter scale."

"Why?"

"With winter coming it'll be no surprise that exposure and illness will take out swathes of people." Anna shrugged, "What better time to facilitate that than with you as a foreman?"

John paused, "Is this how the last foreman died? He got mixed up in this little scheme, Green found out, and he's in that mass grave somewhere?"

Anna snorted, "Crowborough would've shit himself laughing if I'd even suggested doing anything to help these people. He was Lieutenant Barrow's man through and through… in more ways than one."

"They…" John's eyebrows rose when Anna nodded. "I guess all that repression might contribute to Barrow's piss-poor attitude."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

They were quiet a moment before John spoke again. "I can understand how you'd convince Green that the older workers are dying but what about the younger ones? Those fit enough to work and fight? How would you ever convince him they were getting sick?"

"That's not hard. Everyone and anyone can get ill." Anna rubbed her hands together, continuing when John pursed his lips. "There's another toxin we give that makes them sick but doesn't kill them. It mimics the symptoms of dysentery and so we can give it to eight, ten people at once and no one's the wiser."

"So it doesn't kill them?"

"No, but it's unpleasant and dangerous." Anna bit the inside of her cheek, "We lost a few people testing that toxin in particular."

John swallowed, "You tested on people?"

Anna nodded, the weight of an intense sorrow on her face. "It was Mr. Ke's idea. And he personally selected the volunteers. They knew that they were signing up to die and that the end would be… horrendously painful. But the oldest in the camp volunteered to help me get the toxins right."

"Why?"

Anna blinked, John noting the tears in her eyes in the dusky lights of the lamp. "Because they said that death was preferable and that is they died then perhaps their spirits could help."

"And if they lived?"

"Then they would be free." Anna sighed, her palms rubbing over her skirt. "I held a lot of hands as they met their ends in this process."

"And now you've got a regimen?"

"Of sorts." Anna nodded, "It's a delicate process. Mr. Ke chooses his applicants carefully and I do as he says."

"But it's getting too suspicious to have the two of you talking too often and Mrs. He is busy helping you so she can't serve as your go-between?" John gave a little laugh as realization dawned, "You need a courier."

"I need a partner. Someone committed to helping us."

"Sneaking out one or two at a time, still reeking of piss and shit from your toxins and more than a little hazy of mind when they regain consciousness among the dead isn't exactly the kind of progress that'll save these people."

"That's why the ones chosen are given very careful instructions." Anna straightened in her chair. "There's a village, tucked away in the mountains near here, where they've gathered."

"How do you know?"

"Because they leave their messages out where I can find them when I go hunting for herbs and roots." Anna shook her head, "I understand that this all seems… rather unbelievable to you, but we need your help."

"To do what?"

"To get more out." Anna used her hands to gesticulate now. "With winter coming Green's access to Beijing will be limited. He'll need to rely more heavily on the local populations, who hate him, and that'll put him on his guard."

"Making it more dangerous for us."

"But not impossible." Anna sighed, "With those we've got waiting in the wings and the opportunity to get more fighting men on the outside, it's not beyond possibility that we'll have the chance to take the camp back from Green and get everyone out."

"You believe that?"

"It's all I've got left to believe."

John put a hand through his hair, pulling at the back as if to tear out a few strands, and then sighing. His hand dropped to his lap, "I won't agree to this unless I know the plan. I'm not going off half-cocked and risking getting us all buried under this hollowed-out mountain while that bugger gets off scot-free."

"I'm sure you'll not be surprised when I share the sentiment." Anna waited a moment and reached for a hand, putting hers on John's. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I… I didn't know if we could trust you."

"And you trust me now?"

Anna shrugged, "Part of me trusted you then. I trust you more now."

"And Mr. Ke?"

Anna cringed, "He'll take a bit more convincing."

"Your Tai Chi Quan suggestion?"

"Exactly that."

John shrugged, "What harm could it do?

"None. I've enjoyed it the few times I've had the chance to participate." Anna rose, squeezing his hand a final time. "I do warn you, they wait for no man and they've got no mercy."

"I've not got much either." John exchanged smiles with her, holding onto her hand when she went to leave. He pressed a kiss to her skin before releasing it. "Thank you, for trusting me."

"If this doesn't work then all I've done is write your name into the casing of a bullet that'll lodge between your eyes."

"Maybe." John shrugged, "But there's always been one of those coming for me. I'd rather I meet it head on then take it in the back."

Anna's eyes narrowed, an expression crossing her face that John could not read, and she leaned down. He straightened his back as her hands cupped around his jaw and brought their lips together. When his fingers moved to her clothing, Anna drew from the kiss and shook her head. When he tried to speak she put a finger over his lips and shook her head again.

John just watched as Anna stepped back a pace and reached under her skirt to remove her knickers. He blinked, the heat in his blood surely making his face glow, as she set them on the chair and approached him again. All it took was a hand on his chest to push him so the backs of his knees were at the edge of the cot and he sat firmly in the middle of it.

Even the clink of his belt and the slide of his suspenders were nothing to the silence between them. Their eyes never lost contact as Anna maneuvers John's trousers down his legs, his pant following swiftly afterward to leave him standing at attention before her. Her fingers, delicate and carefully, lifted her skirt enough to allow her to straddle him and sink herself slowly down.

John almost bit through his tongue to stop himself making a sound as Anna's teeth gripped into his shoulder to keep herself silent. The tight grip of her undulating walls almost wrung the last vestiges of sanity from John and he gripped the edge of the cot with one hand while the other worked under the folds of Anna's skirt to find her. Though not as wet as their previous encounters, John moved his fingers between their bodies and had Anna's hips rolling into his while her barely-muffled moans dampened his shirt at his shoulder.

They moved together, ignoring the creak of the cot under them, and gave into the harshness of their breathing. John's hand continued seeking ways to raise the muffled sounds from Anna's throat until she turned her head toward him. Their foreheads knocked together slightly but they shook it off so their mouths could meet again. And when they did, Anna wasted no time sucking John's tongue into her mouth to run hers over it.

John gave over to a moan of his own, burying it in Anna's mouth as his fingers mimicked the motions between her legs, and Anna shrieked into their kiss. His hips sped up, using the rise of her climax to fuel his own, and they came together in a shattering of their souls. A moment that took them both to the heights of pleasure before they could wend their way safely down again. Past the stutters and final thrusts of their bodies to the quiet stillness of the camp at night.

Anna pulled away, her hands holding his cheeks, and swallowed. Their eyes did not leave one another, their chests pressed together and bumping on every inhale, until she leaned forward for another kiss. Not as passionate or furious but just as sensual.

She stepped back, going to retrieve her knickers, but John cleared his throat. Even the furrow to her brow did not stop the growth of a smile over her face as John shook his head. With a wink, Anna settled her skirts and rolled back her shoulders to leave his tent without another word.

Night darkened and eventually the lamp in his tent burned so low the flame spluttered out in the oil. John did not notice, his eyes growing accustomed enough to the dark to allow him to find his cane. But he abandoned it a moment later to shuffle out of his tent and into the night.

Cool air fluttered and flirted but did nothing to wash away the stick of muggy heat that lay suffocatingly over the camp. John only wiped at his forehead with his sleeve and stumped his way as quietly as possible toward the waterfall and its pool, with the desperate hope it could offer him a bit of reprieve. And when he miraculously made it to the shores without killing himself in the dark, John saw a figure sitting on the edge of the gently lapping lake.

His steps on the rocks alerted the other person to his presence and John smiled at the blue-swathed image of Anna, lit only by the reflection of the moon on the lake and the darkness of the night. "I wondered if I'd have company here this evening but I didn't want to presume."

"Do you want it?"

Anna shrugged, "I don't think I'd mind it if you're offering."

John settled next to her, nodding at the dressing gown wrapping her. "That doesn't look like the kind of thing a Duchess picks up in England."

"No, it doesn't." Anna smiled at him. "Mrs. He made it for me. As a thank you, of sorts, for my work here."

"Because you're a budding chemist as well as a nurse?"

"Because I saved her nephew." Anna brought her knees to her chest, holding them there so John could see the white skin of her legs. "He was one of the first to take both toxins and live. He's the one out there, giving me messages."

"What's his name?"

"He wanted me to call him William, said it was as English a name as he ever heard, but his name was Ma Sun."

"What does it mean?"

"Horse Falcon, directly translated." Anna shook her head with a smile. "His surname translates to horse and his first name is an older word for falcon."

"Does it suit his personality?"

Anna shrugged, "He was one of the sweetest people I've ever known. One of the only people I've met with the kind of bravery he had. He was… Is, inspiring."

John watched the water, listening to the steady drum of the waterfall. "Why did you… Earlier, I mean, what…"

"I wanted to show you what you mean to me." Anna did not look at him, her hand settling over his while she spoke toward the water. "I didn't have words for what I felt and I thought… I hoped, that would do."

"It did." John intertwined their fingers together. "I just worried…"

"That I thought it was about an exchange of favors?" Anna finally met his eyes and John nodded. "No. I may be a lot of things, Captain, but not that."

"I wouldn't want you to regret it."

"Oh John," Anna put her other hand on his cheek, twisting closer to him. "I could never regret it. Not for one moment. I'd do it all over again, even knowing whatever outcome we might face."

"I feel the same." John turned to kiss her palm, enjoying the slight shiver in Anna's body at the touch. "I should but I couldn't. I can't… I could never…"

"What?" Anna frowned and then sighed into the kiss John pressed desperately to her lips.

"No man can regret loving the way I love you." John put his forehead to hers, holding them close for a moment more so he would not have to see whatever expression she had for him. "I know it's soon and-"

"No," Anna held him tighter, maneuvering to look into his eyes. "I love you, Mr. Bates. And it may not be ladylike to say it but I've not been a lady for some time and I don't pretend to be that anymore."

"You're a lady to me." John let his thumb stroke over her cheek. "And I've never met a finer one."

Anna kissed him again and John leaned her back on the shore. Despite the rocks and the roots, they found a comfortable position as he opened her dressing gown. The silk slid through his fingers as she divested him of the clothing stopping her hands from feeling and caressing over his skin.

John's lips and fingers worked over her skin until he settled at her breasts and hips. Anna writhed into him, pressing herself up to arch toward his body while John's glided over hers and fit between her legs. Holding one another close, kisses and caresses all they could share in the dark, John entered her.

Without light to see and no water to drown out their cries, they tried to bury their sounds in the night around them. Anna's fingers dug into his side, his shoulder, his back, and his ass to guide his motions while her legs spread and moved higher up his back so John struck the right places inside her. His lips took to sucking red patches at her shoulders, her breasts, and over her lips until they could hardly breathe. Only then did his fingers travel down her stomach to reach where she rubbed desperately against him.

Their fingers intertwined there and Anna guided John this time, discovering the exact pressure and places that had her biting into his shoulder to quiet her noises as she tightened and clung to him, internal muscles rippling and grasping around him. John could barely thrust, striking deeply inside her, and finally joined her over the edge of climax. One that had them exchanging hot breaths over sweat-dampened skin that did nothing to cool either of them.

John withdrew and took Anna's hand to slide her from her dressing gown and get them both into the water. He took them until the water came to Anna's shoulders before dunking himself under the water. The silence there, the calm, almost convinced him to remain under the waves but a gentle hand at his shoulder brought him back up.

"Don't go. Not yet." She whispered, moving closer to him. "Not yet."

Her mouth settled on his and John's hands moved over her body. The water made them sluggish, impeded any effort for speed or swift maneuvering, but calmed them both. Worked them into a gentle frenzy that gave John the strength to lift Anna when she wrapped her legs around him. And took made her no lighter than a feather when she slid down him.

They rocked in the current, moving gently and steadily until Anna's fingers took care of her finish. It took no more urging for John to join her and hold her close in the water until their bodies cooled. Until he had to release her so she could soak before walking away from him.

John watched her go, the light glinting off the water still dripping down her body, and waited until she was out of sight before leaving the water himself. He gathered his clothes, working himself carefully back to his tent in the dark, and only noted the lack of Anna's knickers in his tent when he returned. With a sigh he settled on his cot and gave into the sway of sleep driven toward him by the buzz of humidity that only made the water on his body turn to sweat as he slept.


	10. Men Go Abroad

John steeled himself and walked around the ring of younger men all calling out to the two fighting in the makeshift ring. A few of them looked at him but most ignored him to cheer on their favorite. For a moment he caught sight of one of them jumping into the air to bring his leg around to crack the other man's face and split his cheek open. Cheering erupted and John blew as the two men continued to grapple and drew the crowd closer to them.

"Enjoying the view?" John looked up to see an older man, Mr. Ke, leaning on a tall stick and nodding at John. "Kung Fu is one of the oldest arts of this nation."

"It's… Like nothing I've ever seen." John winced as the man with a split cheek rapid punched the other man in the gut before dropping to the ground to sweep the feet. The man lost his balance and the crouch of the first man turned into an elbow strike that left his opponent curled in the fetal position and vomiting. "And I've seen street fighting in Hong Kong."

"But nothing like your Irish boxing?" Mr. Ke sat on a stool, his hands crossed over one another on the head of his stick. "I'm sure you could hold your own in the ring if you were pressed to participate."

John scoffed, cringing as a sharp crack and a howl indicated a broken bone. "Maybe when I was younger and stupider I'd risk it but now…"

"It's a wise man who knows his limits. A wiser one still who seeks to overcome them." Mr. Ke clicked his tongue at one of the men next to him and then nodded at the stool they produced for John to sit. "I'd imagine you'd like to get weight off that leg of yours."

"I'll accept your sympathy." John took the seat, holding his cane loosely in one hand. "Ms. Smith suggested you have a way that might strengthen my leg."

"Ah," Mr. Ke nodded before barking something in a dialect John recognized but could not understand. The older man waved his open hand at the ring. "These boys, they understand nothing about form."

"She said you trained with monks that taught you the martial arts." John led but Mr. Ke did not look at him. "I was just curious-"

"I know Ms. Smith told you about the arrangement she and I came to, in regard to the prisoners here." Mr. Ke finally faced John, cutting off any other lines of thoughts. "If we're to discuss that in the open we'll need to use English and that's unwise. So we'll leave whatever Ms. Smith said to you to ourselves and speak on your recovery instead."

John could only clear his throat and nod. "If that's what you wish."

"It is." Mr. Ke sat straighter. "I am only one of a group of elderly individuals in this camp who are dedicated to keeping the younger ones in line. Those determined to free themselves for the pride of it."

"And you tell them not to?"

Mr. Ke snorted, "You don't understand much about Chinese culture, do you Mr. Bates? You've great respect for it but no understanding."

"I'm sorry to say that's true." John shuffled in place. "I spent most of my time in India, when I was a soldier, and then traveled to Hong Kong and Shanghai and Beijing but… I was…"

"A drunk and a wastrel?"

"Yes."

Mr. Ke shrugged, his attention back on the two new participants in the ring. One kicking his leg in a series of turning spins while the other only ducked back in poses reminiscent of a praying mantis. "We've all made mistakes with our lives. It's what led us here, for better or worse, and it's what leaves us as we are."

John frowned, opening his mouth to speak but Mr. Ke cut him off. "You don't understand, and that's fine. You're young and you've experienced great pain. That closes the soul to opportunity."

"What kinds of opportunities?"

"The kind that forces us to push past our limits." Mr. Ke stood, John hurrying to copy him, and barked an order in a dialect John did not understand. "I'd like to see what you can do, Mr. Bates."

"What?" John balked as two men took his arms and directed him toward the ring. "I'm not… I can't…"

"These men are your peers now, Mr. Bates. Learn from them and they will learn from you." Mr. Ke stood straight, putting his hands over one another on the top of his stick. "It's the art of Shao Lin principles. You learn from one another and you better yourself through failure and humility."

"What?" John could barely understand the man before a fly foot caught him across the jaw. He stumbled backward into those gathered around the ring but they only pushed him back toward the man whose foot stabbed John hard in the gut.

He hit the ground hard, gasping for breath and trying to fill his collapsed lungs. His hand wrapped around his cane, still clutched in his fingers, and he whipped it around to snap against the man's standing foot as his other foot rose above John's bought to crack down on his abdomen. The snap of the wood on the man's ankle upset him and John rolled out of the arc of the man's falling foot so the heel strike only brought up dust.

John scrambled to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he tried to keep out of the reach of the man's flying feet as he tried to kick John. A whip of air sounded near John's ear and he barely dodged away before the man's foot could break his face. He tripped sideways into his cane and fell to his knees, barely sliding to his feet when the man's spinning kick caught John on the shoulder.

A shock of pain echoed through his shoulder and knee but John rolled to escape the man's stomp toward his head. He lashed out with his cane and happened to catch it between the man's legs to trip him onto his back. Pushing himself to his feet, John held tightly to his cane and held it like a sword.

His opponent put his hands near his shoulders, pushing his weight onto them so his knees pulled toward his shoulders, and jumped up to land solidly on his toes. John stumbled back in surprise and almost lost hold on his cane. It caught on the ground, pushing John sideways, but he missed another kick from the man.

A kick that John used to shove off from his cane to collide into the man's leg. His weight pushed the man off center and they tumbled to the ground together. John crawled onto the man's chest and tried to put his knees on the man's arms. But when John made the mistake of bending over to try and situate himself on the man's chest, John's nose cracked under the force of the man's forehead.

John rolled backward, lights and colors dancing before his eyes, as he hit the ground attempting to breathe. The hollow sound of wood rolling had his fingers flexing to try and reach his cane but he caught sight of the fuzzy foot kicking his cane away. John could only ground as the man's knee landed on his chest, pushing down as if to break his sternum.

He heaved, trying to breathe, and shoved at the man but his balance held superior to John's efforts to throw him off. John's vision tinged red and black at the edges as the man's thumbs pressed at his neck. The pressure had John blinking and forcing himself past the lack of air as his fingers continued to reach blindly for his cane. But he could reach nothing and his hand flapped uselessly against the ground.

Just as his vision faded to full black, something knocked against his fingers. He slid them along the surface and gripped as tightly as he could as he snapped his arm reflexively toward his body. The stick in his hand whacked solidly against the man's head and his weight landed heavily on John's stomach but relieved the pressure on his sternum and neck.

John gasped for air, trying to sit up, and brought the stick between him and the other man as the blade of his hand chopped toward John's throat. His right arm snapped out, taking the end of his cane to knock against the other man's temple. They tangled together, wrestling over the stick, before John brought his knee up to catch the man's between the legs.

His eyes widened and he howled for a moment before John dropped his left hand from the cane to force his fist into the man's face. A crunch, reminiscent of the pain still zinging through his own nose, sounded and the other man rolled to the ground. John used the stick to get himself to stand, staggering like the other man as they faced one another. He shook himself, eyes still fuzzing as blood returned to his brain and his nose bleeding from the break, but held the stick between his two hands as the other man raised his fists.

For a split second there was silence before the other man leapt toward John. He took two steps, kicking off the second to snap his leg toward John with a kick aimed directly from his knee. John ducked sideways but caught the other man's foot on the chin. The sharp hit of his back on the ground knocked all the air from him but he kept the stick between him and the man's second attempt to bring down a heel strike. It caught the back of the man's leg and John snapped it back to collide with the man's other shin.

The hop back the man took, hissing at the pain, allowed John to stab forward, falling onto his chest as the other man doubled over with choking sounds. John pushed off the ground and used both hands to throw the stick toward the man. He knocked it away but John's full weight caught the man about the midriff to slam him into the ground.

Familiar gasping sounds of lungs swiftly evacuated of all air trigged John to settle on the man's stomach and bring his fists down in a flurry on the man's face. The length of his arms outreached the bend of the man's torso and John knocked the man's weak flails away from his face. And when the man's head finally dropped back as John's final punch broke the man's nose again, John sagged sideways off the man.

The ring was silent, watching as John dragged himself on his elbows to the side of the ring to retrieve his cane. Shaking hands and weak legs had him standing long enough to meet Mr. Ke's eyes. A nod of approval before a few scattered cheers greeted him, gave John a small smile before he toppled forward and passed out.

He blinked, groaning as his entire body hurt. A hand rested on his shoulder, pushing him into his cot, and John cracked his lids to see Anna pulled a swath of bandage to tear it with her teeth before wrapping it between individual fingers. At his next groan she finally spoke.

"Not what I intended when I suggested you meet Mr. Ke."

"He was the one who tossed me into the ring." John's voice started strong before turning to a whisper when a louder volume rang in his head. "It was fight or die and I didn't want to die like that."

"Not boxing then?" Anna smiled and John moaned, holding at his sides. "Sorry. I probably should not make jokes when your body's a mess."

"What about the other man?"

"His face was something to see but with the poultices and my resetting his nose, both breaks'll heal just fine." Her finger tapped delicately on John's nose. "Like yours, which I set when you were unconscious. You do have two lovely black eyes that remind me of Southern China's panda but I guess we make do."

"What about…"

"Everything else?" Anna held up John's hand so he could see it. "You mangled your fingers beating his face in but most of them are sprains, not breaks. It'll be murder to try and wipe your ass after you take a shit but you should be fine in a few days. As for your other injuries… mostly cosmetic. Bruises and soreness that I can only treat with some white willow bark and tobacco."

"No morphine?"

"I don't use heavy narcotics as it tends to upset the mind and the mentality after sustained use." Anna stretched another length of bandage. "You, however, are lucky to be alive."

"Why's that?"

"Kent's not an easy one to fight." Anna carefully sat John up to wrap the bandages over his waist and up above his shoulder. "He's one of the best."

"Watched many of the training fights have you?" John settled back and noted Anna's snorting laugh. "Did I say something particularly funny?"

"The fights aren't just for training. Well, they are but-"

"Captain Bates," Both of them looked toward the tent door and John noted the speed at which Anna was out of her seat when Green entered. "I heard you barely survived Kent's kicks."

"I'm sure I did sufficient damage to his face to pay the price for his heel strikes." John sat himself up, moving as gingerly as possible. "Unless you're here to see if it killed me."

"No, they would've already carted your body to our very convenient grave for that." Green crossed his arms over his chest, scoffing at John's appearance. "He didn't spare you."

"I was told failure is a teacher and there was something about humility but I do admit that I did not quite keep it all in my head after I almost lost consciousness."

"You did."

"That was the second time." John groaned, "What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me if you're participating in the ring."

John frowned, "I don't understand."

"Surely, Captain, Mr. Ke didn't fail to tell you how it all works." Green took Anna's vacated chair as John's eyes darted in her direction. She gave a tiny shake of her head before John's focus returned to Green. "Mr. Ke, as one of the elders, trains his young men to fight so they can be competitors in our gambling rings."

"Your what?"

Green laughed, "I hope you didn't think me stupid enough to keep all my eggs in one basket."

"I didn't know you had baskets or eggs to keep there." John sighed, holding to his tender chest where he noted a large bruise blossoming at his sternum. "But what are your gambling rings?"

"They started out as pacifiers for the young. Ways to keep them entertained, fit, and use their energy elsewhere." Green took a deep breath, his arms moving up his chest with the motion. "Distract them from their woes with the application of breads and circuses, if you will."

"You do realize that mentality brought about the fall of Rome, yes?"

"And did you realize that I intend to not be in Rome when it falls?" Green winked at John, standing. "But I'd like to see what my patrons think when we've someone as broken as yourself bashing in the face of our star fighter."

"If I'd known he was a star, I wouldn't tried to put bruises where they didn't show." John hissed in pain as Green put a hand on John's chest and pressed on the bruising there.

"You know, Captain, I think you like to testing my limits. And, for the moment, I find it mildly amusing. But I warn you, should you tempt me further or, in any way, interrupt my work… I will not hesitate to kill you." Green leaned into his hand, pressing harder on John's bruise and bringing tears to the corners of John's eyes. "Do I make myself clear?"

John could only nod and Green released the pressure on his chest, grinning at him. "Then I hope you get fighting fit because, with autumn coming, we'll be ready for the fighting pits again."

"Yes." John grunted and Green turned to Anna.

"Get him well, Ms. Smith. I wouldn't want our prize getting too weak to be of use to use when the season starts."

"I'll do my best." Green left the tent and John sagged back into the cot as Anna came back to him. "Under the circumstances, I don't think I'll have much luck suggesting that you attempt to take it easy."

John could only let his eyes roll back into his head as his exhausted body forced him back into sleep.

As summer waned, John trained with the younger men in the afternoons and learned Tai Chi Quan from the "elders" in the morning. His recovery only added more bruises to his body, leaving him breathless and aching more days than not, but his reactions quickened, his knuckles calloused again, and his flexibility increased until he surprised the one they called 'Kent' with a kick above the other man's head. He even managed to teach a few of the younger men some finer points of bare knuckles boxing that they incorporated into their fights.

The air cooled in the mornings and the evenings, forcing John to bundle into the coats provided by the hard work of the seamstresses operating under the brutal efficiency of Mrs. He, and reminded him of Green's promise about the fighting pits. A promise that had him pacing the edge of the lake one evening as he dug his hands deeper into the pockets of the padded coat and watched the whispers of breath tendril from his mouth on the cooler air. He sighed, leaning on one of the rocks to watch the weak trickle of the waterfall that once coursed with life.

"It's fed by snowmelt." John turned to his head to see Anna descending the hill, wrapped in a coat of her own as she nodded toward the waterfall. "The snow's already started packing in the mountains again, slowing the water, and when winter's here in force we won't have anything at all."

"How many winters have you been here?"

"This'll be my third, when it comes." Anna gave a sigh of her own, the breath billowing from her mouth like smoke. "It once got cold enough to freeze the water here and we buried thirty people within the next two weeks. All deaths by exposure and hypothermia. Shaking and shivering their last in their beds."

"What about your toxins?"

Anna shrugged her shoulders, "We didn't have those then. Mrs. He and Mr. Ke didn't trust me when I first came here. They didn't trust any of the wàiguórén."

"The what?"

Anna shook her head, smiling. "It's the word they use for non-Chinese. Or words, I guess. It's difficult to think about that way because it's three characters but it represents the idea of people from the outside."

"They've never called me that."

"They wouldn't, not to your face." Anna shivered slightly, "It's not disrespectful, per se, but it's not a nice thing to call someone."

"It's obviously true."

"It is what it is." Anna leaned on the rock next to him. "Mr. Ke's impressed by your progress. Says you'll make a fine fighter, if not a bit older than he'd have preferred to start you off in these things."

"I'm old enough to be the father to most of those boys." John shrugged up his shoulders to try and keep his arms near his body. "What are they even doing here?"

"The same thing we are." Anna let her head fall back, looking up at the sky. "Trying to survive and make the best of a bad situation."

"I've been here six months," John said after a minute. "Six months of healing my body, breaking it again, healing it some more just to break it again and for what? What's the purpose of doing any of this when it's all lining the pockets of a man I'd like to throttle with my bare hands wrapping around his throat?"

"I've not got an answer for you." Anna's head came back, almost overcorrecting to look at the ground as she dragged the line of her boot in the dirt and rock. "Except to say that there is a line for those who'll get to wrap their fingers around his neck and you're not even the fifth person in it."

John snorted, "I imagine you'd be the first."

"Oh yes." Anna took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I've imagined killing him in a variety of ways. None of which , obviously, I've ever done anything about."

"Have you had the chance?"

One of her shoulders lifted non-committally. "The risk is always that there's another card up his sleeve. He's a devious bastard and I wouldn't put it past him to have some kind of booby-trap or a fail-safe in the case of his inevitable demise."

"And you don't want to risk it?"

"What's the point of escape when you're dead by the end of it anyway?" Anna chewed the inside of her cheek. "Part of me hoped that my letters had gotten through and we wouldn't be here now."

"What letters?"

"The messages I've exchanged with William." Anna turned to John. "I've had him trying to get messages and telegrams to Hong Kong so my friend, Lady Mary, could try and help us."

"How long have you been giving these messages?"

"A year, maybe."

John blinked at her, "And no one's responded?"

"It's difficult to tell, given the factors involved, but I've assumed one of a few possible conclusions."

"Such as?"

"The first is that William never gets the chance to send a telegram. He's from a poor village out here in Shan Dong. What operator in Beijing will ever give him the time of day or help him translate from Mandarin to English?"

"These scenarios only get worse, don't they?"

"I'll admit, they don't get much better." Anna took a breath, "One of the possible answers is that Lieut… Sorry, Captain Barrow somehow intercepts the messages or reassures the headquarters in Hong Kong that they're looking into the problem and it vanishes."

"Are there any more scenarios that help paint this increasingly depressing portrait of our utter abandonment?"

"That Lady Mary and her husband moved back to England and no one's received my letters because there's no one to receive them." Anna pushed off the rock. "But that's just a number of possibilities that explain the lack of aid."

"And no one, in the three years you've been missing, have any answer for why the Duchess of Ravensbruch hasn't been seen?"

"It's not uncommon." Anna waved him off. "When I came here I left Lady Mary in charge of my finances and most decisions. I told her then that I would be gone for… however long it took for me to find myself."

"And she understood that?"

"Oh no," Anna shook her head, "Mary thought I was mad as a hatter and tried to tell me that in words she thought I'd understand but I ignored her and came anyway. And, for the first few months I was gone, I received her updates so I know she was managing my estate well."

"And now?"

"She'll just think I'm still finding myself." Anna paced the beach. "The hardest part of it all is that I don't think I actually succeeded."

"At which part?"

"Finding myself." Anna turned on her heel to face him. "Do you feel like you found yourself here?"

"I highly doubt that's what I'd say I did here." John laughed out loud, "I found something else entirely and I don't… I don't even know what it is."

"You've no words for it?"

"How do you describe finding the balance you've craved for so long while also feeling the depths of despair that you can hardly plumb without looking into the abyss and realizing it looked back at you?"

Anna whistled, "You are at a crossroads, I think."

"Aren't we all?"

"It's more philosophical, I think." Anna held up one hand. "On this side you've your very Western philosophy that there's superior purpose in suffering. All things happen for a reason, and all that."

"What's in your other hand?"

Anna held it up as well. "The Eastern philosophy that all life is suffering. There's no a point to it, it just is. That's the balance. The peace of realizing that no matter happens you will suffer and it won't always make sense but that you trust in the balance of nature to correct itself. It's arbitrary and random but it is balanced."

"You sound like you've studied enough of their Buddha and Confucius to create an argument with Nietzsche and his other German philosopher friends."

"Wouldn't that be something?" Anna laughed with him for a moment. "But I understand what you mean."

"You do?"

She nodded, "For all the bad here I found Mrs. He, who's perhaps the best friend I've had in my entirely life besides Mary. I found Mr. Ke who, for all his gruff and dramatic sayings has a kind heart and endeavors to do the right thing by those he serves and those who depend on him." Anna paused, "And I found you."

"I can understand that." John stepped toward her, taking her cold hand with his. "Because I feel the same. For all the horrible pain and fear this place invokes in me on a daily basis, I found you."

He kissed her hand and Anna shivered slightly. "You continue speaking like that, John, and I'll come over all insensible."

"I like you insensible." John smiled at her, his other hand brushing a bit of hair back behind her ear. "It's been so long since I've seen you that way and my dreams aren't the same."

"You dream about me?"

"You're the only thought I have when I don't have to think about anything else." John's lips ghosted over the skin of her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw line, that bit of her neck peeking over the collar of her coat, and then toward her lips. "You're the only person that gives my life any meaning. You're the purpose to all suffering I might ever endure."

Anna turned into his lips, holding him close with her fingers digging into the skin at the back of his neck. She broke the kiss only long enough to press their foreheads together and whispering feverishly into his lips. "Take me to mine John. I want to be with you. Right now."

"I live to serve."


	11. To Wonder at the Heights of Mountains

They managed to sneak covertly back into camp and entered Anna's tent. A few lights hung in the corners, flickering briefly at the displacement of air when they pushed back the flaps to enter, but she lowered all the wicks until only the vaguely yellow-brown glow remained. With the dimness as their only comfort and the masking of their shadows for passersby to discern, Anna's lips landed on John's.

She drove him back toward her cot, his cane catching on the struts and almost tripping them into the bed. John's hand shot out, catching himself by knotting his fingers in the sheets, and put his other hand to Anna's shoulder to slow them down. The speed of their breathing filled his ears and he forced his eyes closed to eliminate the perfect view of her for a moment.

"We… We can slow down."

"Did I…" Anna's hands went to her mouth and she reached for his cane at the same time he did. "I'm so sorry I didn't even realize-"

"Anna," John quieted her, his hands settling over hers and he laid the cane along the floor. "It's fine. I just… I feel we should take our time."

"Okay." Anna nodded, taking deep breaths to mimic his. "Okay."

"Okay." John kissed over her hands, turning his head about as he took to his feet. "This… This might be easier on the floor than your cot."

"It's not comfortable."

John snorted, "Considering that the first, very unglamorous, time we had one another you were against a stone wall…"

"Fair point."

"Uh…" John turned his head about and noted the stove in the middle of the tent. "If you stoke that a bit then we should be alright."

Anna slipped her hands free from John's grip, moving to the stove in the middle of the room. With the hatch open a red-orange glow cast a semi-circle of light about the middle of the tent, casting the perfect light as John dragged the blankets from Anna's bed. Piling them in the middle of the floor, and digging others from a trunk in the corner of her domain, John worked them into a veritable pouf on top of the rug circling the stove.

"Quite the homemaker." Anna removed her thicker jacket, leaving her in a shirt that billowed just enough to allow the light from the stove to give details to the edges of her body. John could only nod and swallow as he watched her move about her tent to discard her clothing.

He stumbled to follow suit, careful to keep his movements slow and measured to avoid any motions that might end his intentions before they even left his thoughts. But Anna was by his side in a moment, all orange-yellow tinged skin and delicate fingers until their skin slid across one another. Pinpricks of light shown in their eyes from the different gas lamps in the room and the stove as they moved toward one another.

John carefully situated himself, laying back as Anna moved to straddle him but John put a hand on her arm to hold her still for a moment. His finger moved to her lips before she could speak and he tipped his torso up to put his lips next to her ear. "I want to watch you first."

The shiver that ran through Anna's body pimpled her skin under John's hand to raise the hairs there. He loosened his already weak hold on her, running over her skin as their eyes met again in the near-dark. "If you want."

"You want me to show you what I've done thinking about you these past few months?" Anna's hand planted on John's chest, her fingers grazing for a moment on the hint of bruising still left on his sternum, and pushed herself back to reflect John's reclined position on their makeshift mass of blankets in the heating tent. "You want to watch what I did when I was alone?"

"I'd imagine if there was someone with you it'd be a slightly different experience." John tried to tease but his mouth went dry again as Anna spread her legs to give him a better view. "I'd have tried to make it a different experience."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, so they say." Anna adjusted back, wedging her shoulders in place before she allowed her hands to start at her shoulders and work lower. "But I doubt we'd need something like that."

"I've craved since the day I had a chance to see you in the water" John's hands rubbed over his thighs, bringing his legs up as if to relieve pressure but forced back down when his knee complained. "You were like a water nymph."

"Here they've a goddess for that." Anna's fingers worked diligently at their massage, her skin reddening as a sheen of sweat gathered to allow light to prick and dance over her skin. "She's the goddess of the sea and seafarers. They call her Mazu."

"Then I'd be lost forever so she could save me." John swallowed hard, forcing what little moisture he had left in his mouth out when his hand wrapped himself at the sight of Anna's hand snaking between her spread legs. "If she'd deign to."

"I would." Anna smiled at him, a hitch in her expression when her fingers shifted over her delicate nerves. "You weren't the only one to appreciate the view at the waterfall that day."

"It feels like a lifetime ago." John's hand paused, noting the similar beat in Anna's movements. "We were different people then."

"Very." Her fingers moved again, delving between her folds to allow John to track the sheen of her as Anna's hips bucked slightly. "But I happen to like the people we are now."

"So do I." John's hand paused and he abandoned himself entirely to surge forward and run his tongue over Anna's folds while her fingers drew back.

She arched, her hips lifting so John's hands could grab at her ass and hold her steady, while her other hand continued sporadically kneading at her breasts. John reached one of his arms up and across her body, the other still holding her steady as he lapped at her, to join her attempts to find her other nerves and bring them to life. Nerves that had Anna writhing under the assault of his mouth when his fingers finally closed over her breast.

Her hand covered his, removing it as their eyes met, and John responded with a long lick that ran the length of her folds. The tip of his tongue delved between them before he latched onto her clit to suck heartily. And even more heartily when Anna's gasping sounds drove him to suck harder while his fingers dove into her. Crooking them, sliding in and out to set the tempo of his motions to Anna's breathing, John only ceased when she cried out her finish. Then he withdrew his fingers from her rippling muscles and made to suck them into his mouth.

The speed of Anna's recovery drove John back into the pile of blankets. They shifted slightly, driving John's elbow into the floor, but Anna took his fingers all the same. A moment of pause was all she needed to make sure he watched as she sucked them into her mouth, her tongue wrapping over his digits to leave them clean when she withdrew them from between her lips. Lips John took in the next moment so they could share the taste of her until Anna broke the kiss.

Her hand returned to his chest, fingers grazing as they flexed against his heated skin, and John noted the way her eyes blew wide in the wake of her climax. "I want to watch you. I want…"

"I can-" John's hand moved to adjust, to give her the view he had of her only moments before, but Anna put her hand on his chest and pressed him back into the blankets. "Anna?"

"I want to watch you when I do to you what you do to me."

John could not even summon enough spit to swallow as Anna's lips and teeth started their slow trek down his chest. A chest dotted with bruises in various states of healing and coloring. Sides marked with scars and cuts that she only added to with the rake of her nails. And to his growing arousal that Anna reached the tip of by dragging her tongue from the base.

He groaned back into the blankets, forcing his eyes shut as if that might help him recover enough sanity not to end their foray the moment her lips wrapped around him. But Anna waited until John cracked his lids enough to see her. Then she set about driving him mad with kisses and licks that left him sweating to match the sheen of her work. Each time she set about to start again, Anna waited until their eyes met so every step in the process was one shared to the depths of their souls.

A tingle of warning at the base of John's back had him flailing a hand toward her shoulder. His fingers could not even grip there, almost too afraid of the knee-jerk reaction that could result in bruises on her skin if he grabbed her just before she decided to graze her teeth over him, but Anna registered the motion. She paused, holding her at the edge of him while her tongue swirled the head.

"I… I'm…"

"Good." Anna drew back, placing a final kiss above the slit before crawling up to hold herself just off his chest. "Because I want to watch you touch yourself."

John reached down, his hand wrapping slowly over his now quivering erection, and groaned at the slickness left by her mouth there. Anna drew back, crawling to the side, and John focused on his breathing for a moment. His movements started slow and sure, careful not to jerk too quickly and end it all. But just as he gained a steady rhythm that could keep him on the edge for as long as he needed to satisfy Anna's curiosity, she moved.

He frowned, watching her by tilting his head back into the blankets as she moved behind his head. "Anna?"

"Would it work?"

John let go, pushing himself up on his elbow to twist his torso to face her as Anna held herself on her hands and knees behind him. "Would what work?"

"If you were to… Use your tongue on me while I use mine on you?"

His eyebrows must have brushed his hairline in surprise as John nodded. "The dynamics of the motion would seem to suggest-"

"Good." Anna pulled John's lips to hers, kissing him fiercely, and then broke the kiss to press hard on his shoulders so he let out a soft 'oof' when he landed. "Then I want to try it."

She carefully maneuvered her legs on either side of his head, notching her knees just above his shoulders, and put her hands on either side of his chest. The insides of her arms brushed the skin of his sides as she lowered her hips down enough for John to experiment with a lick across her. Anna shuddered and whined, giving John a grin he immediately choked on when Anna's hands wrapped around him to hold steady as her kisses began to coat his arousal in earnest.

It became more of a race to the heights of pleasure as both tried to outmatch the other in the sounds and expression they could elicit from the other. John's hands wrapped to her hips, holding her steady for his mouth and fingers while Anna's efforts only flagged when she quivered and shivered around John. And, when she came again, he continued to lick and lap until Anna broke all contact.

But she surprised him again. As John went to move, to find a way to lay her trembling boy back on the blankets, Anna slid herself forward. He had only a moment to comprehend her direction before she sheathed herself on him to the hilt in a single thrust.

All John could do was breathe. There was nothing else his body could possibly manage but to focus on the swift rise and fall of his chest as Anna settled above him. All he could see was the expanse of her marked back and when it rose and fell before him, John forced himself up to rise up and kiss over every one of them he could reach as she continued to move the way she needed.

They shuffled and slid together over the blankets, John's chest meeting her back, and he held himself close to her as Anna set the pace she wanted him to follow. He peeked over her shoulder, liberally dotting her neck with kisses, and groaned into her skin at the sight of her rising and falling over him. Her fingers dug into his thighs before one of her arms wrapped back around to hold his head to her shoulder. The graze of her nails in his scalp drove John to take his mouth back to mapping her back while his hands alternated between holds at her hips and her breasts. But no hold was enough.

Not until Anna's vaginal walls tightened around him. The bite of her nails into his skin had John gripping tighter at her hips to hold her into each grinding thrust. And then they came together as their bodies, held on the edge for so long, wrung themselves out in a single motion.

John sagged back on the pile of blankets, surrendering to the inevitable collapse of the carefully constructed pouf. Anna's weight settled on his chest before rolling to the side to find her own haven in the mass they thoroughly ruined between their explorations. But their eyes met in the low light and John could only smile at the haze of satisfaction settling over Anna's face.

"You've every right to look pleased with yourself." She muttered over at him, forcing herself up enough to reach for wood to feed the flagging stove. "I feel thoroughly well loved."

"It's not satisfaction for me I'm looking for." John forced himself into a crawl, gathering the sliding edges of their mountain of blankets to try and rescue the shape of it before it dissembled completely. "I was hoping you were alright."

"I've not been so alright in quite awhile." She crouched on her toes before the stove, stoking it a moment before risking closing it and leaving them in more muffled lighting. "I'm just nervous that someone heard us."

"Worried about Green?" John paused, on his knees behind Anna as she crossed her arms to rest on her legs, still keeping on her toes. "Worried he'd find out about us and… do something?"

"There are moments when I wonder what more could he do that he's not already done." Anna shook her head, her fingers trembling slightly as she brushed hair back over her ear. "And then I realize that my lack of imagination in what he can do has never stopped him sinking to deeper depths of depravity before."

"Should we-"

"No," Anna turned, moving to her knees to shuffle over the floor toward John. "I won't let him take this from us."

"I don't want to put you in danger."

"Me?" Anna scoffed, kissing John's cheek. "You're the one he's got scheduled in his fighting pits."

"Seems a poor decision for a man who needs foremen." John swept his hand through her hair, pulling gently when it tangled or knotted. "But I worry about what he'd do if I refused."

"The moral high ground is safer when there's no one you care about." Anna sighed, laying back with John, holding about his middle. "I wanted to thank you, by the way, for earlier."

John could not stop the grin that took over his face as he adjusted to measure her expression. "Which part?"

"Most of it." Anna tapped the end of his nose, her own smile blooming a moment before her expression became a bit more somber. "But… mostly, I think, for… When you saw my back and you didn't-"

John kissed her, his hand holding gently along her jaw as he pulled at her lips. She responded, her hands on his cheeks and her elbows pressing into his chest to hold him down as she turned them to land over him. When John pulled away he recognized the dilation in her eyes.

"It's nothing to fear. We've all got scars and you've seen mine."

"No one's… Not that I've-" Anna stopped herself, blinking at the sheen John recognized at the edges of her eyes. "Thank you."

"I should be thanking you." John moved his fingers through her hair, taking advantage of Anna's position over him to trace the scars over her back with his fingers. "You've given me a gift that I'll never be able to repay."

"What?"

"Your unbridled affection." John continued to touch over her back, noting the places where Anna shivered as her legs straddled his midriff to find a more stable position. "No one's loved me the way you have."

"I could say the same about you." Anna bit her lip, "Can I ask you for something? Something I… I can't even say, really."

John nodded, "Of course."

"In your… experience, is there a… A way to… Do this where I… Where I have to trust you?"

"It's all about trust." John frowned. "What do you mean?"

"When… when Green… It was…" Anna swallowed, closing her eyes and pushing herself off John to sit to the side. He sat up as Anna wrung her fingers. "He was behind me and I… I don't… I didn't see his face and…"

"Anna," John covered her fingers with his, bringing her hands to his mouth to press kisses to any bit of skin he could reach as he watched her eyes. "I'm at your mercy. Whatever you want, or don't want, I won't force you."

"I know." Anna slipped one hand from his grip, sliding it along his jaw to run her thumb along his cheek. For a second all John could contemplate was the difference in the callouses of her skin versus those of his own. "I just… I want to feel free with you. Unhindered and unrestrained. I want… I want to trust that it's you."

"Alright." John placed a last kiss to her fingers. "How do you want me?"

"Have you… mounted?"

John tried to stop his snigger, noting the confusion in Anna's eyes when he could not, and held up a hand. "I'm sorry. It's not… I've just not heard it called that. I don't think, anyway."

"What do you call it?"

"Well, if it's for a first time then undignified but otherwise…" John stopped himself, shaking his head. "I think I know what you want. And, if you trust me, I can make it alright for you."

"Please." Anna gripped at his hand, squeezing it in what he took for partial desperation. "I want… I want to feel free of it. Of whatever shadow lurks there."

"I can help with that." John kissed her forehead and maneuvered her so she leaned away from the fire on her hands and knees. "Unless you want to face-"

"No, keep going."

John took a deep breath and settled himself between Anna's spread legs with his knees. His hands smoothed over the skin of her back, tracing the now familiar markings with care with the callouses of his fingers before finding those places than had Anna twitching. Those he retraced with his lips and gentle nips of his teeth until Anna's soft sighs turned into little whimpers and moans she tried to keep to the back of her throat.

With one hand sculpting down the side of her body, John used the other to wrap around to her chest. He found her breasts, hanging like fruit he could only feel and not see, and began to massage and knead them while his other hand set about doing the same to her ass. She bucked her hips toward him and John bit at his cheek to stop himself groaning when the glide of her skin helped his rise back to life. Instead he held steady and focused on bringing out Anna's pleasure until she ducked her head to bury her sounds in the fabrics under them.

His fingers migrated between her legs, pressing and rubbing between tantalizing strokes of himself between her soaked folds that only made he want to give over to the primal desire of thrusting into her. But he held back, watching her body writhe under him until she sagged onto her elbows as his fingers found the spot inside her that left her calling out his name. It muffled in the blankets but it was all John could take.

Placing a kiss just above the rise of her ass, John leaned over Anna. His fingers still buried deep inside her pressed and rubbed through the end of her climax as he whispered in her ear. "Anna, I'm going to take you now. If you want me to stop then-"

"No," Anna turned her face to his, bringing their lips together in a sloppy mess of passion and frenzied desire. "Keep going. Please keep going."

John kissed her back, withdrawing his fingers and running them along her a final time before bringing them to his lips. He sucked them in front of her and Anna only kissed him harder. The kiss broke a second later when John's other hand left her breasts to hold at her hips for his drive forward.

They moved, Anna digging with her knees into the blankets to find the purchase she needed to meet John's thrusts while he countered with grinding drives of his own. One his knees it gave him more leverage and the control but the jagged edges of pain lancing through his leg warned him to avoid prolonged teasing. Anna did not need it, wet as she was and growling into the blankets, and his body could not sustain it.

Instead he increased speed, used his grip to increase pressure, and urged Anna to follow the pounding pace of his body on hers. And she did. Each piston of their hips worked them into a perpetual frenzy that John swore would leave fabric burns over Anna's forearms and knees. But they gave over to it and the moment Anna's body even tempted toward another release, John finished.

Sagging together, not bothering to sort out the mess of the nest around them, they fell in a tangle of limbs. John sorted them out as best he could, withdrawing from Anna before finding the corner of a worn blanket to wipe over her. She shivered at the touch and John paused.

"Just… Sensitive." Anna moved to her back, smiling at him. "Thank you."

"You keep telling me that." John wiped over himself too before folding the blanket and tucking it between Anna's legs. "Wouldn't want to make more of a mess than we'll already have."

"I'm sure the laundresses will enjoy teasing me about my nighttime visitors." Anna sighed, arching her neck back and closing her eyes. John could not help himself, pressing a kiss to her pulse as Anna purred at the touch. "Already trying to seduce me again?"

"It's difficult not to." John kissed her shoulder, propping his head up on an arm as Anna turned to mimic his motions and look at him. "You are, without doubt, the most beautiful woman and wonderful creature I've ever seen."

"I doubt that, just so you know." Anna poked gently at his chest but grinned with him all the same. She shuffled closer, turning to put her back to his chest and pull his other arm around her. "Is your knee alright?"

"It's the one on top." John nudged the back of her thigh with it, kissing at her shoulder again. "And it's fine. What about yours?"

"They'll be a bit raw tomorrow but it'll be worth it." Anna pulled the arm around her waist up so she could kiss the back of John's hand. It left his arm nestled between her breasts as John maneuvered to extend his other arm out and rest his chin gently on her head. "I've… I've never felt that free before."

"For the woman who took me without preamble in that cave, I'm more than a little surprised by that." John kissed the top of her head. "But I'm glad I could help."

"I'm glad it was you."

John held her close, the snap and crackle in the stove the only sounds for a time until he took the risk to speak. "You've… You don't talk about what happened to you. When Green… When he attacked you."

"Sometimes I try to pretend it never happened."

"If you don't want-"

"No," Anna's head shook against his chest and she cuddled herself closer. "I'd said that I went to confront him about something and he beat me for it. It wasn't… I didn't expect it but I shouldn't have been surprised. I once saw him take a piece of wood and beat one of the old workers to death. It was… It was like there was a fury in him. Something you'd see in a wild animal who's been beaten and damaged beyond repair. The kind of creature you just put down."

"He told me once he was in India, that we'd met there."

"Do you remember?"

John shook his head, his chin moving through Anna's hair. "No. But I know what happened to me there and if he was… If he was an animal before than then there wouldn't be anything to stop that kind of madness when it's unleashed in the kind of bloodlust war brings out in men."

"I saw, once, when I was treating an injury to his upper arm, that his back's covered in scars." Anna sighed into John's hold. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's acting the way other acted toward him."

"The army's a place for those with no place in the world. The beaten, downtrodden, forgotten, and the cruel. If he's any of those then it's bad enough. A combination… That's worse."

"That night I thought I found him in a listening mood. I thought, perhaps, he'd listen to me if I presented my case logically. But…"

"There's no reasoning with men like that."

"I found that out." Anna took a deep breath. "He surprised me. He wrapped rope around my wrists and had me hanging from the poles of his tent before I could even comprehend how I was standing on my toes."

"He's quick?"

"When he wants to be. He's lethal and he's careful."

"A proper psychotic then?"

Anna shrugged against John's chest. "I guess. Whatever he was, he turned me toward the support pole of the tent and… Well, you've seen my back."

"You said you went unconscious?"

"Syncope is the body's response to pain and blood loss to the brain. It's a way to provide the body a kind of anesthetic so it can't feel pain. And, in a way, it was my salvation. I didn't realize what else he did until I regained consciousness on his floor afterward. He was… It was over already and I don't have to live with that memory." Anna sighed, "There are small mercies in this world and I'll always consider that one of them."

John held Anna tighter as the hitch in her voice offered prelude to the drops of warm tears on his hand. "It was all I had to keep me going when I had those toxins. I wanted to take one, undiluted, and just die. I didn't care who he'd take for my… insolence. I just wanted to die."

"What if you'd-"

"Been pregnant?" John could not respond to the question. "I would've killed us both. I couldn't have raised that child to look like him. Or here. How… How could I bear the pain of what that child would endure here? Or what he'd become if his father knew he existed and decided to raise him?"

"I could understand." John whispered, unable to raise his voice. "I can't… I can't imagine what you went through Anna. I don't pretend to and I don't believe that person owes the world anything. No explanations or justifications. You were surviving and you did. You're here now."

"How much of me is here now?" Anna turned over her shoulder, her fingers intertwining with his at her shoulder. "How much of me is left?"

John used his other arm to hold at her cheek. "All of you Anna. All of you."

Their lips met, the awkward angle the least of their concerns as they held to one another and deepened their kiss. John's hand moved from her shoulder, held at her breasts, and then glided down her leg to bring it over his hip while tossing the blanket between her legs aside. Swift thrusts of his hips slid his erection between her legs to glide through her folds until Anna adjusted her hips. In a single motion they were together and moving as one.

With one arm limited in motion, John's other hand overcompensated and try to touch everywhere. He sought out her nerves, leaving them sparking and fizzing in time with Anna's whimpers and moans into his mouth. Moving to her breasts to tweak and caress at her nipples her Anna's fingers digging into his hair and holding to his scalp to take control of their kiss. And when he tried to wrap her closer, to fold her body into his, he only helped them come together.

They dozed in the low light until the lamps all extinguished but neither of them moved to light them. The stove flickered and burned to embers so they wrapped themselves in blankets to snuggle closer together on the floor. And when they fell asleep they only held closer to one another in the dark.

A distant noise roused John and he lifted his head. Anna's was still tucked on his chest, her body half-draped over his as they turned in the night, and he tried to move without waking her. But her eyes fluttered open and she winced as she moved. Her hand pushed on his chest, the blankets sliding down her back as she squinted toward the flaps of the tent.

"We've an hour before Mrs. He comes to wake me." Anna settled back with John, pulling the blankets back as if to save them from the chill of the morning. Her fingers drew patterns over his chest, "I'm sure Mr. Ke wants you to train."

"The first fight is in a few weeks." John traced the side of her cheek, watching her eyes as she turned her face to meet his. "I promise I won't die."

"I should hope not." Anna tried to smile and then bit her lip. "May… If you…"

"What?"

Anna pressed her lips hard to his and maneuvered over him, the blankets bunching and moving off them. John responded and then groaned out when Anna's hand wrapped over him. Even for the half second he noted the twitch of a grin on her face, John could only run his fingers through Anna's hair as she slid down his body to wrap her mouth around him. Between her and the morning, it took no time at all for John to grunt his attempt to urge Anna up. She obeyed, not even attempting a taunting expression, and withdrew with a final lick over his length.

She rose up and slid down him, her fingers curling into his chest as she held herself over him. John's hands, sliding down her back, gripped at her hips and her ass as Anna set the pace. Slow rolls of her hips and rocking motions had her gasping and huffing as her palms pressed into John's chest. A swift adjustment in her weight, putting all of her leverage on one hand, allowed the other to go to where her nerves begged for John's touch.

But he refrained, watching Anna take care of herself as he eyes closed and she tremored and quivered around him. He waited, the soft sighs of her finish only signaling him to move again when she met his eyes. Then he brought his fingers around and increased the thrust of his hips. With his knees coming up behind her, providing her the chance to stretch back and alter the angle, John brought her to the edge again so they could fall over it together.

They settled, Anna still holding herself above him, and then brought their lips together. She brushed hair back from his forehead and kissed him there before nodding toward the back of her tent. "You'll be safest if you risk a cold rinse. It'll explain where you were this morning."

"What about you?"

"I'd follow but I know how that would end." Anna wrapped herself in one of the blankets as John got up, assembling his clothes and hurrying into them. "Mrs. He'll probably insist on a bath for me and it'll be tepid but not frigid."

"Better for you." John bent down, giving Anna one last kiss as her gentle hand held along his cheek to guide the depth and length of their kiss. "Until next time?"

"Of course." Anna walked him to the back of the tent, listening with him before giving a nod and handing over his cane. "Best be off."

John dipped under the back flap and hurried down to the frigid lake.


	12. At the Huge Waves of the Sea

John wrapped his hands with strips of material and then sighed as Mr. Ke came forward and unwrapped them to tighten the material himself. "You never do this right. Always too loose."

"I trust you'll keep them tight enough that I'll loose sensation in my fingers so I won't feel it when I crack a jaw." John held his hands out for Mr. Ke to wrap the material tightly between his fingers and over his hands to his wrists. "Who am I fighting today?"

"It's not about who, it's about for whom." Mr. Ke finished the first hand, tucking the last of the fabric into the tightly woven bands and holding up his hand for John to punch his tightened fist at it. The older man did not move or flinch as the impacted punch in the callouses of his hand seemed to have no effect at all. "Strong punch. Keep your strength in the elbow and twist with your hips."

"I thought we were just testing the wraps."

Mr. Ke scowled before pulling John's other hand to wrap it the same way. "You know that there is no test. All of it is a test. It's all for real, no faking."

"I know that you've had me punching trees for a month now and I've practically broken at least all of my fingers." John tested the second wrap before throwing a few experimental punches at Mr. Ke's hands. "That's when you realized that Tiger Style was not my style."

"It was necessary to teach you Tiger or I could not teach you Bear." Mr. Ke took a stance and John mimicked him. "Remember, circular strikes. Keep it in rotations, like your Irish boxing. You strike low, keep them low, and take them lower when you grapple to the ground."

"I remember." John mimicked the motions, throwing three punches before ducking to grapple Mr. Ke to the ground. He danced away to allow the man back up. "Powerful grips, go for the joints and bone breaks, incapacitation to crush and grapple. Drag, flip, and throw to lift and move my smaller opponents."

"And don't forget," Mr. Ke raised a warning finger, "The roar."

John winced, "I'll look a fool."

"So does a man when he crouches like a mantis," Mr. Ke demonstrated the move, "Or goes to fly like a crane."

His body flowed to the next move as easily as if he demonstrated how to walk two paces. "But when they strike," He came at John and struck him with his bent palm to drive John back a full three feet, "They are the ones laughing and their opponents could be dead."

"So you want me to roar?"

"You are Bear to us, Jun. And the bear is an animal of strength and power." Mr. Ke nodded at him, bowing as John echoed the motion. "Be the Bear, Jun."

John lifted from the bow only after Mr. Ke did and watched the man leave. He noted the way he demonstrated to a few of the other fighters, knocking down some of the younger ones cocky enough to fall for his tricks before rising to receive the earful he gave them. When someone spoke, John almost jumped in surprise at the voice standing not feet from him.

"When I broke your leg I thought you'd be a cripple but I guess not."

John bit the inside of his cheek, glowering at Barrow as the man approached in his uniform. "I guess you'll have to try harder next time." He snorted at the obvious notch in Barrow's nose. "But I think I did my job when it came to breaking your nose. Never healed quite right, did it?"

A muscle in Barrow's jaw twitched as the man next to him gave a laugh before extending his hand to John. "So you're the one who finally marred the perfect visage of our Captain Barrow here?"

"I'm sure he could do that on his own." John shook the man's hand, frowning slightly. "Your accent, sir, isn't exactly one you'd find in a place like this."

"I'm not usually one you'd find in a place like this since my ancestors stopped using the Silk Road to trade with China." He smoothed his hair with a hand. "Kemal Pamuk, one of the Turkish diplomats in Beijing."

"You're a bit removed from Beijing at the moment, Ambassador."

"I'm no ambassador." Pamuk snorted a laugh, "What an idea. That anyone would make me an ambassador."

"Because you take up with the likes of Barrow here?" John jerked his head in Barrow's direction before eyeing him up and down. "You didn't quite seem his… Type but I guess when needs must."

Pamuk took his turn to glower while Barrow's face practically radiated heat. "I'm sure that gutter trash such as yourself would think that about foreigners but to your detriment, sir."

"I'm not the gutter trash that Barrow usually brings here." John stood a bit taller. "I'm a member of Her Majesty's army. Barrow here dragged me along to this location to frame me for murder. But I'm guessing that telling you that does me little good because, if you're here, then you're already in too deep with the wrong people to give two shits about administering justice."

"What do you know about justice?" Barrow almost spit at John but John ignored it to continue speaking to Pamuk.

"Whatever you hope to gain from whatever Barrow's mixing you up in, I'll warn you that it won't end well. This like this never do."

"Ah," Pamuk's face regained a bit of color to accompany the smirk he now wore. "You think that I'm here because I'm invested in the little fighting pit Mr. Green's made or because of the gold he claims he's pulling from the mountains around here but you're wrong."

"There's not much else out here to see."

"Because I'm here to sell, not buy." Pamuk pulled at the lapels of his coat. "I'm the broker for a very important deal between Mr. Green and some of my German contacts. They've got some rather impressive pieces of engineering to offer Mr. Green at a greatly discounted price."

"They need someone to test some horrible things for them?"

Pamuk shrugged, "Why not test them on people that aren't missed?"

John nodded, "For a moment there, Mr. Pamuk, I rather hoped that you were hoodwinked into something insidious but I now know that you're exactly the type of pond scum that Mr. Green attracts into his circles." He nodded at both men, "I do hope you'll join in the melee fighting. I wouldn't mind taking a crack at breaking your nose to match Barrow's on my next go-round."

He turned away from both men, rolling his shoulders and walking to the edge of the ring where Kent waited. They nodded at one another before posing to take a few practice jabs and moves for a moment until a gong sounded. Kent disconnected in an instant, his face grave. John frowned and then noticed Green entering the little amphitheater with a few other men. He snorted in disgust as Barrow and Pamuk joined him in the upper level and turned to Kent.

"Are you first?"

Kent shook his head, "The new ones'll fight. They're warm-up for us. When they're ready, you'll go in. I always finish."

"Who do you fight?"

"People they bring." Kent pointed at Barrow. "He brings people from all over. Some from the north, south, the far north where it snows in thick blankets. We fight with our styles against theirs."

"He's bringing in fighters from all over?" John frowned, "How?"

"Smuggling boat, one told me. It docks at night in the Jiao Zhou Bay and he brings them here."

"He's got a boat out there?"

Kent shrugged, "So they've told me. But the other man, with him, he's come before. Brought other people from farther west to see us. They talked about adding weapons to the fights to make it more… sporting."

"Sporting?" John shook his head, "Animals."

"They'll give you someone fast or big. They'll want to test your strength and see if you can beat them." Kent sighed, pointing across the ring to a few people practicing at the other end. "The one with the long sword-"

"The rapier?"

"I don't know. I just know he brought it from his country where they speak like music. I'll fight him."

"Bare-handed?"

"Mr. Ke'll insist on a jian but…" Kent flexed his fingers. "I just need to be faster than he is and get inside his guard. It's just as if his arms were longer than usual. And you never watch the weapon. You watch the man's eyes."

"John!" He turned to see Anna and Mrs. He approaching, both carrying medical kits with them. "I was hoping to find you before it all started, to make sure you're ready enough for this."

"Do you have something to offer me if I'm feeling 'under the weather'?" John winked at her but Anna only scowled before shivering in her coat. "I'm surprised Green's not got you up with the rest of his fetid guests."

"I'll not sully myself with the likes of them, thank you." She peeked through the opening and frowned. "What's Pamuk doing here?"

"Friends are you?"

Anna shook her head. "He visited the barracks when I was a nurse there but I saw him in Hong Kong as well."

"Would he recognize you if he saw you?"

"I don't think so." Anna shrugged, "He wasn't trying to seduce me and I never minded him so I'm not even a blot of his memory."

"Was he trying to sell German-made weapons in between seductions?"

"No, he accosted my friend after a party." Anna paused, "What about German-made weapons?"

"He mentioned something about German engineering and-"

"Jun!" Kent called to him, ushering him over to join the rest of the fighters in the row Mr. Ke formed outside the amphitheater."

"I've…" John pointed in the direction of the group. "I'll be safe."

"No, you won't. You'll be in danger of death every round." Anna nodded at him, putting up her hand when he went to argue. "But you'll live, and I'll trust in that. In fact, I'll hold you to that."

John smiled and jogged to join the group, shivering slightly in his clothing as Mr. Ke organized the motely collection to walk the line. His gruff exterior and fierce face did nothing to ease the cowed expressions of the fighters but when he stopped before them the single nod he gave them rolled back shoulders and had them all standing taller. John had a head, at least, above the rest but he felt no taller than any of them as they followed Mr. Ke into the amphitheater.

The gathered group of thugs, gangsters, the general lowlife gamblers of the city, and a few of richer individuals trying to experience an edgy side of life gathered on the benches to cheer and heckle and gawk. John noted the fancy suits that gazed down like gods taking fascination with mortals while those hoping the results of the fights might change their fortunes kept their shoulders hunched to block out the cold and keep their good luck close.

Mr. Ke stopped them, standing in front of them before crossing to the middle of the ring to bow toward the box where Green sat. He opened his hand toward his line of men and stood, without speaking, as if allowing the inspection of his fighters to stand as defense for itself. Green barely glanced at them before nodding. Mr. Ke walked back to his fighters and tapped two on the shoulder, sending them to the middle of the ring. With the ring of the gong, it began.

John watched in a combination of grotesque, fearful, and intrigued fascination as the fighters paired together. Those Mr. Ke chose were specifically gauged to match styles but leave the audience crying out in shock or fear as their styles clashed. Tiger fought Mantis, Crane engaged Leopard, and Eagle battled Dragon to leave mixed results as stronger, faster, and smarter fighters proved their skills and strengths against one another in round after round to leave victors bowing to the audience and the losers hustled away by older workers from the mines for the tending and care of Anna and Mrs. He.

When John's turn came, Kent nodded at him and continued to practice figures with a straight, Chinese sword boasting a red string dangling from the end with a tassel that whipped in the air with Kent's practiced strokes. He nodded back and walked to where Mr. Ke waited for him. They bowed to one another before Mr. Ke's eyes darted toward the man entering the ring. A large man boasting a figure almost a head-and-a-half taller than John.

"You know this man, Jun?"

"No."

"He's tall, broad, and has hands the size of cooking pots." Mr. Ke shook his head, "You'll not beat him as Bear."

"But you said-"

"You beat him as Snake." Mr. Ke made a quick, snapping motion with his hand. "You beat him as Monkey. You beat him as Crane. You beat him as Dragon. Do you understand?"

"I'm better as a bear."

"And he is a mountain. You must be a viper." Mr. Ke pointed to Kent. "You dance around like he does. You leave this mountain quaking and then you crush the mountain, like the Monkey King did."

John took a breath and nodded, "What if I can get him off his feet? Grapple him? Could I win then?"

"You must move him off his feet or the mountain does not fall." Mr. Ke bowed to John again and he echoed it. "You dance, Jun. You do not fight, you dance."

"I never was a good dancer." John mumbled and made a show of rolling his shoulders back and shaking out his arms like he intended to cock them into fists.

The other man, standing like a literal hill in John's view, brought up his arms the size of John's thighs and almost laughed at John. But John ducked around the first punch and managed to land his elbow into the other's man's kidney. It did not slow the man down but he overbalanced and John's next blow toward the man's throat with the blade of his hand had him gasping and gagging. His next move landed another elbow at the back of the man's neck and he hit the ground with an almost earth-shaking thud.

John danced away, keeping his distance but noting the way Barrow scowled and Pamuk laughed. Shaking away the distraction, John kept his arms loose at his sides and continued to maintain the distance between he and the other man as the lumbering giant managed to get to his feet. The man shook his head and growled as he located John. The moment their eyes locked John recognized the pump of adrenaline in his system to either fight or fly.

He channeled it, the excess of energy threatening to overwhelm his senses and force either a tunneling to his vision or an overexertion, and waited as he dug into the ground with the balls of his feet. The man charged like an enraged bull and John dodged out of the way at the last moment to execute a sharp punch to the man's exposed side. It knocked the man off course and allowed John the moment he needed to bring his other elbow down into the man's lower back and impact the same kidney as before.

The tumble of the large man had John dancing away again, keeping his arms loose and bouncing on his toes to dispel the excess energy now pumping swiftly through his blood. He kept his focus to the man and their ring as the cacophony of noises from the amphitheater around them only proved distracting. For a moment he caught sight of Mr. Ke, noting the man's serene calm in the face of the raucous audience, and took a deep breath to refocus on the man charging him again.

Going up on one foot, his right leg bent up toward his chest, John kept his hands tight to his body. As the larger man trundled toward him, John kicked up with his right leg and brought both of his arms forward with his fingers close together. His foot caught the other man under the chin, bringing his head up, and John's beak-like fingers stabbed into the man's eyes.

He howled and fell off course, his cooking pot hands covering his eyes and his shoulder hit the ground. John adjusted his position, assuring himself of a stable stance, and maintained a distance for a moment to judge the other man's condition. When he had, John went up on his right foot and pushed himself into the air. His extended right leg came down with a vicious snap to the other man's throat and John rolled away as he choked uncontrollably.

Those large hands grappled at his throat and John watched the blue tinge to the man's skin. A tinge that continued until a sharp crack echoed through the amphitheater. He ducked, covering his head, and noted Barrow holding a smoking gun while a stain of red radiated out from the dead man's chest.

John waited, Mr. Ke's hand on his arm bringing him back to reality, and he walked out of the arena as ten of the old workers struggled to roll and drag the large body from the ring. The red stain left in their wake held John's attention until other workers, women this time, poured fresh sand over the spot and started raking it over as if nothing happened. Nothing until the man with the rapier entered the ring to sword-salute Kent with his jian. He echoed the motion and the next fight began as if a man had not just lost his life there moments before.

Smaller hands, hands he recognized on his skin, brought John's attention back to the moment and he blinked as Anna checked over his limbs and inspected his face. "You don't seem hurt but I'll bet the damage here," She tapped on his forehead, "Isn't exactly as easy to manage as any of the non-existent bodily harm I'm used to mending."

"Barrow just shot him. I mean, he was choking to death because I crushed his throat but…" John shook his head, "I've never killed a man like that in a fight. I've fought men to the floor, been knocked unconscious, but never…"

"John," Anna put her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. "You're in shock. Give it a few moments so it can pass and you'll be alright, I promise. Now I need you to distract yourself with something else."

"What?"

"How about what you heard from Mr. Pamuk about those German-made guns. That was interesting."

"All I know is that he was bringing the Germans here for Green to test their engineering. I assumed it was guns but I don't know. It could've been something else. It could be anything else."

"I'm sure the only German engineering Green cares anything about begins and ends with their weapon work." Anna went back on her heels, crouched in front of John. "Why work through Pamuk?"

"I don't know. He mentioned the Silk Road but I think that was just a reference." John shook his head, shivering until Anna wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. "Thank you."

Anna only smiled, "What if I told you that I might know why the Germans need to work through the Turkish?"

"Then I'd wonder how you know anything about it."

"William may not've had a chance to get anything to Hong Kong but he can sneak information in here." Anna pulled John's hands toward her, unwrapping Mr. Ke's careful work. "He's told me that Kent's information about those smuggling ships in Jiao Zhou bay are accurate. Barrow's smuggling supplies here and he's been doing it with Turkish ships."

"Then the Germans need those smuggling resources as well?"

Anna nodded, "I'd suspect they're something rather fancy. Something that's advancing military technology."

John paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. "When I was in Beijing, I helped a man who said he was robbed by someone with a machine pistol."

"A what?"

"I didn't understand him either since the description doesn't translate well in Chinese, yet, but when I spoke to what remains of my contacts in the army, they mentioned the Germans have been doing tests on automated weapons. Magazine loaded rifles with ten shots in a continuous stream and machine pistols with the same capacity." John's breath caught in his chest. "If Green got ahold of something like that, he'd have enough firepower to kill every one of the workers in the mines. Even if the numbers are currently ten to one against."

"Just mow them down like wheat in a hail storm." Anna stood, putting a palm to her head. "They didn't happen to mention when these weapons of death arrive, did they?"

"They didn't even tell me they were carting weapons of death." John winced, "And I believe I rather offended them with my implication that Mr. Pamuk's been enjoying the pleasures of Barrow's company for more than just business."

Anna snorted, "Mr. Pamuk's a man for women. He's got no interest in men except as means to whatever ends he has."

"Then what are his ends?"

"My guess, money. He's a vain creature who believes he's entitled to the world and doesn't much care how he gets it." Anna sighed, "I've been trying to get eyes on Barrow's smuggling ship for months and now…"

"Wait," John held up a hand. "What use would you have for Barrow's ship?"

"It's got the potential to hold the entire population of these mines." Anna shrugged, "What better way to get these people away from Green than on the ship that brings in the goods that run this Hell?"

"I don't…" John shook his head, "It's too risky."

"First, you've not even heard my plan. Second, I don't recall asking for your participation. And third," Anna went to raise a third finger but stopped at the look on John's face. "What?"

"That's the exact question I wanted to ask you, Nurse Smith." Anna turned to face Green and a group of people behind him. "I'm sure you'd like to tell us all what kind of plan you have here that doesn't need Captain Bates's help."


	13. At the Long Courses of the Rivers

John winced as the man holding his arms twisted harder before throwing him forward onto his knees in Green's cabin. Anna landed next to him, her neck immediately exposed when Green grabbed her hair to wrench her head back so she faced him. "I don't like repeating myself, as you well know Nurse Smith. So if you'd do me the honor of explaining what I heard outside the ring, we can clear up this misunderstanding before I hurt either of you further."

"We-" John went to say before Green backhanded him.

"I asked Nurse Smith. When I'm ready to ask you there won't be any confusion so wait patiently for your turn." John massaged his face, marveling at the evenness to the man's tone despite the violence he so easily executed. "Now, what kind of plot are you trying to hatch with the naïve Captain here?"

"Nothing that would catch your attentions, I'm sure." Anna replied just as evenly, gasping when Green tugged harder at her hair.

"I disagree since it did catch my attention." Green turned to John, holding Anna's hair with one hand. "It seems your turn has now arrived."

"Has it?" John tried to say but another backhand almost toppled him completely before Green's fist landed with a crack on his jaw.

"In case you were wondering, I'm not one for jokes or games so please, be honest with me as I'll be with you." Green tugged harder on Anna's hair and, through the pain blinking in his own eyes, John noted the tears gathering on Anna's lids from the force of the hold. "I am going to start pulling out her hair by the roots unless you'd like to be more forthcoming than she is."

John's eyes flicked to Anna, noting the slight shake of her head, and then let his head fall but kept his eyes peeking out to still see Green's face. "She was telling me how she could help me die."

Green blinked at him, his grip on Anna's hair loosening as if on unintended reflex so she fell forward and caught herself on her palms. "Excuse me?"

"She'd heard of an herb that can cause you to just drift off to sleep. It… It takes no more than an hour and then your heart stops beating." John swallowed, "I wanted her to find it for me so I could take it."

"After all I've done for you?" Green's fist impacted John's cheek, a jagged split of pain lancing right to his brain. "You'd betray me like that?"

"It's…" John took another blow on the other side of his face, barely catching himself from falling to the ground.

"After the mercy I showed a decrepit, injured, waste like you?"

The blows that rained down on John went from his face when he hit the floor of the cabin, to hard kicks from Green's boots into John's abdomen, stomach, and ribs until he heard a few of them crack. Through it all, gathering what breath he could, John managed to finally speak. "It's because of my illness."

Green paused with his fist drawn back again, his knuckles red, as John righted himself and held to his bruised and battered body. The slight draw back to his foot had John tensing for another impact of the boot into his gut. "What illness?"

"I've had it for a few days now." John held at his stomach while his other hand tenderly checked the extent of damage on the side of his face. "It's a horrible cramping. I can barely keep any food down and I'm always thirsty. It's… It's like fire in my gut and potentially hours on the bog but there's no end to it. Even when I eat nothing I'm always running. Not that eating helps since I can't keep anything down."

Green turned to Anna, "Have you treated this?"

"I've tried but…" Anna shrugged, her eyes not going to John. "In some cases there's no way to fix it. It's not an uncommon illness amongst some of the workers. We've seen it before and while some of them recover others… Their bodies aren't strong enough and they'll succumb."

"And you've yet to solve it?"

"We're already working with the bare minimum of resources. I don't have time to investigate an illness that affects a small percentage of our workers." Anna's eyes flicked to John for a second. "He's no better than anyone else in the eyes of whatever fate's clenching his gut or draining through the bung hole."

"I would've thought a nurse, such as yourself, would find more concern in the condition of this man and his suffering."

"And I would've thought you taught me to sew up my bleeding heart so I didn't worry over those already lost."

John watched as Green walked a pace away from Anna, his fingers pulling at his cheeks and jaw as it trying to stretch his face. After a moment he pivoted, snorting a laugh, and clapped his hands together. "Then I guess I have no compunction not to work you to death, Captain." He opened his hand toward John, the expression on his face almost manic in its intensity. "If you're already dying then it's no great loss, is it?"

Before John could even attempt a response, someone appeared at the tent, "Mr. Green, Captain Barrow wanted me to tell you that the Germans are here."

"Shit." Green pointed at John and Anna before addressing the men standing guard over them. "Tie them to the tent poles and hurry up. I don't want to look like I can't keep the rabble in line."

"Yes sir."

Green followed the messenger before his men finished their task but it took no time for them to leave John tugging at the ropes holding his hands above his head. He strained against them for a moment before wincing as the rope bit into his skin. He only faced Anna when she hissed at him. "What?"

"Are you mad? We'll have to prove that to him."

"My illness?" John frowned and then stopped, the contortions of his face pulling at swelling and tender skin. "Why?"

"Because he'll not just take your word for it."

"I was prepared for that possibility."

"Possibility? It's an absolute certainty. He trusts no one and he trusts you and I even less." She knocked her head back against the pole. "We can't fake an illness for you. Especially not something that'll kill you."

"Can't you?"

"No, I can't."

"Why not?"

Anna stared at him. "Do you want to die?"

"Not particularly."

"Then take this as a certainty, I wouldn't say I couldn't if I could. I'm not vain but I'm also not a fool. I know what I can do and I've no compunction to pretend differently than how it is."

"I'd never suggest otherwise." John only gave her a little smile and shrug that had Anna's face furrowing with her frown.

"What've you got in mind that'll make this all go according to the lie we just fed him? Because I've not got any ideas and I know you'll need my help."

"The toxin."

"The tox…" Anna's jaw dropped as she shook her head, "No, it's madness just thinking about it."

"It saved other lives. It'll save ours now."

"It could kill you."

"You perfected it."

"It's an imperfect perfection. Each body is different. You might not even react, which in other cases would be alright but in this case will only be more deadly than if it actually drains your body of fluids and allows you to die." Anna closed her eyes, her head dropping down to pull at her hanging arms. "We're totally buggered."

"Not the words of a lady."

"I've got other words if you say that again." Anna sighed, "We're just lucky the little ruckus we caused didn't bring Pamuk in here. Then we'd really be in the shit."

"Because he knows who you are?"

"Because then I take on a different value than the thin line I'm walking with you at the moment." Anna lifted her head, leaning back to try and find a comfortable position with her immobile arms. "Even if we wanted to use the toxin, it'll take time to go into effect. And the possible results… even the results we want… They're not pretty John. If it doesn't kill you, you'll wish you were dead."

"Better that than Green working me to death." John tried to shuffle backward to put less strain on his arms. "Although I've got a nasty, niggling feeling he's not talking about having me stand as foreman all day, every day."

"His pits are open and you'll get better odds each day you inch toward death."

John puffed his cheeks and let out a puff of air. "That's what I was afraid of. Fighting while your body's in open rebellion against you."

"Been there before?"

"My stomach wasn't as iron as I thought when I first arrived in India. I laid up two weeks in hospital when I first arrived because of the cuisine." John shrugged, wincing as it pulled at his injured gut. "I don't suppose you've got anything in the interim to help until the toxin works?"

"If it works." Anna clarified and managed a bit of a head bob. "Perhaps. The problem is, he needs to think you're dying. Temporary measures won't work. If the toxin takes no effect in your system, I might just have to poison you."

"At this point I'm wondering if that would be so bad." John paused, noting Anna's face. "What?"

"You'd be so selfish?"

"I didn't think I was being selfish."

"To die and leave me here, alone. You'd do that?"

"I wasn't-" John huffed, "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant-"

"No, it's…" Anna shook her head, "I'm sorry. That was rude and you don't owe me anything so I guess-"

"No, I was being selfish and-"

The flaps opened and Green returned, a smile on his face. "What do you know Captain but your presence is requested in the ring. Apparently your earlier display impressed them enough to want to see you again. Especially now that you're worse for wear than before."

The men untied John and hauled him to his feet. They paused in front of Green as the man crooked his finger at John and lowered his voice for dramatic effect. "Just so you know, Captain Barrow and I have a little wager on you. Now that he knows you're running dry from both ends."

"I'll bet he took great pleasure in that announcement."

"His glee was nigh inconsolable. Especially after how you demolished his submission to the pits." Green gave a little grin before containing himself. "The wager, just so you're aware of the stakes, is that for each blow landed on you during the bouts, the Captain'll get two shot of his own, between the fights."

"I'll assume he's keeping a careful tally."

"Oh, indeed he is. But that's not the entire end of the bargain, on your end."

John frowned, "What else could I possibly offer you but my body, Mr. Green?"

"Her." Green pointed to Anna, still tied to her pole. "I'm having her taken back to the medical tent and watched. I wouldn't want her distracting you during the fights so Mrs. Hughes'll take over caring for the men Carson'll put on the field."

"What's going to happen to Anna, should things go poorly for me?"

Green leaned close to John's ear. "Let's just say that the marks on her back might have new friends."

"I don't know-"

"Captain Bates," Green clicked his teeth at him. "I'm disappointed in you. Did you think I didn't know you've been shagging her?"

John's jaw almost snapped in half with the force of keeping it from dropping to his chest. Green only nodded, "I know you've seen her back. And other parts of her too. But don't worry, if you survive the season and whatever's eating you from inside out, then I don't mind if you keep shagging her. It's nothing to me. Just two animals obeying primal instinct, yes?"

"So you'll beat her, if I lose?"

"Captain Barrow gets two shots at you, she'll get one for one. It's a fair ratio." Green directed John's attention to a cane hanging from the wall. "With that, though. So it'll hurt more than whatever Captain Barrow's fists can do to your gut."

"Why would you do that to her?"

"Because I don't care about her. Or you, in the end. I care about the money you two might lose me, the lives that might cost me, and the performance you'll give with her on the line." Green shrugged, "Men always tend to fight harder and longer for women they love. It's disgusting but I understand it."

"Like animals."

"Now you understand." Green snapped his fingers, "He's needed in the ring."

At the end of the first day of fighting, John's body bore the battering of twelve fighters. All of them defeated but each of them scoring a single blow. Each blow counted with a malicious grin but Barrow and delivered with equal force to John's torso and back with the baton Barrow produced from his uniform. When the last one struck John across the face, spitting blood into the sand, Barrow stepped back and nodded at Green.

"I'll take my pound of flesh again tomorrow, if you're prize bull here isn't too busy lagging behind."

"He's taken a bit of a beating today but he'll only be in the premium fights tomorrow." Green nodded to the men who now served as John's watchdogs. "Have him taken to the medical tent. This is beyond Mrs. Hughes's expertise I think."

The men dropped him in the medical tent and Anna hurried over, wincing as she helped him stand. John immediately pried himself loose from her hold to get himself onto his feet. "I've got it."

"I'm not an invalid."

"Neither am I." John argued and sat on the edge of a cot as Mrs. He entered. "He already took that cane to you, didn't he?"

"He was a bit ambitious." Anna winced again as she moved and John noted the hint of a stain forming on the back of her blouse. "I think he'll make you watch next time but he was busy and couldn't manage the spectacle."

"He'll kill us both, you do realize that."

"I know that Paul suffered forty stripes save one no less than three times." Anna shrugged and then grimaced. "I can handle a dozen cracks with a cane."

"You shouldn't have to."

"Unless you're made of steel, John, you'll not bear the brunt of those fights indefinitely." Anna paused, bringing a bowl of water over to help wash his face as he took the cuts he could see. "This is madness."

"As mad as our other plot?"

"We'll not be discussing anything like that here." Anna handed John the bowl and pulled a box of salves toward her, immediately applying them to the multiplicity of bruises now purpling his body. "We saw how that ended the last time."

"How long do these pits last?"

"Two weeks. It's the peak part of the season since it's Mid-Autumn Festival. Celebration and holiday will allow more people to travel here, unnoticed, and then slink back to where they came from." Anna moved around the cot to apply the paste to his back. "I notice that Barrow didn't use his fists."

"He's procured a baton." John hissed when Anna pressed into a cut. "But Green did say that I've fewer fights tomorrow. The premium ones."

"Then today was more about teaching you a lesson." Anna paused as the tent flap opened and John looked up to see Mrs. He. "Do you have it?"

"Mr. Ke wasn't too happy about sacrificing the order he's so carefully cultivated but yes, I have it." She handed over the vial to Anna. "I'll bring them one at a time or else the box'll clink and someone might ask about it."

"Wise." Anna put the vial up to the meager light from the lantern and then handed it over to John. "Drink up."

"Is this is?"

"It's a standard dose. We'll measure up or down depending on how you react within twelve hours." Anna stood back her arms folding over her chest. "Go on."

John nodded at both women and knocked the contents of the vial back. In a moment he grimaced and coughed, the urge to gag and vomit almost overcoming him until he managed to breathe through his nose until the nausea passed. He handed the vial back to Anna and blinked through his watering eyes. "What the hell is in that?"

"A number of things I don't think you could repeat in their Chinese or Latin names so we'll just say 'disgusting' and get on with it." Anna shrugged, taking the vial to a box that hosted empty glassware. "I'm sure you explained to Mr. Ke the circumstances of the change."

"Yes and he's got news." Mrs. He moved closer to Anna, her voice lowering. "He said that some of his boys heard something about guns and the Germans."

John's eyes met Anna's and she guided Mrs. He back to John. "I think we know a little about that."

"What do you know?"

"Enough to think that Barrow's got his smuggling enterprise moving through Turkish ships and they'll be testing out automated weaponry for the Germans once Green gets a deal to bring them here."

Mrs. He nodded, "I've gotten word from Ma Sun. He's said that the ships are still docked in Jiao Zhou bay and they'll be there for a few weeks yet. Longer than the holiday or the pits."

"To what end?" John asked and then grabbed at his stomach. He toppled sideways off the cot, stumbling to the edge of the tent to wretch and vomit onto the ground. He took a deep breath and vomited again before pulling himself back into the tent. "I believe it's already working."

Anna looked at Mrs. He, "What else did Mr. Ke's men find out?"

"That the weapons'll come when the fights have proven themselves. I'd guess, based on the load count, sometime around your Christian Christmas."

"Why then?" John tried to manage before gagging again. Anna handed him a bucket and he used that. "What's special about Christmas?"

"The mine's running dry." Anna sighed, shrugging at John's expression. "You're just supposed to watch the men but Mr. Ke's the one running a count. He knows everything going on in this place and he's a fine man for maths. He knows that the levels of output have decreased in the last six months. Based on his estimates, the mine'll be completely dry by Western New Year and completely untenable by Chinese New Year."

"So Green'll want his guns…" John vomited into the bucket again before taking the canteen from Anna.

"Before then. Get his men trained in how to use them, mow us all down, and then blow the place with the explosives to ensure that no one knows this place even existed except the ghosts who'll haunt it."

"What do we do?"

"For now?" Anna took a breath. "Try to survive long enough to find a way around those guns."

John finished the contents of the canteen before vomiting the water into the bucket. When he made sure he would not bring up more of the contents of his stomach, he leaned over the bucket. "I've got an idea about that."

Anna raised her eyebrow. "I hope it's better than what's got that bucket securely between your legs."

"The bucket's a crucial part of it all." John looked at Mrs. He, "What's Mr. Ke's operating procedure when he sneaks out one of the fake dead?"

Mrs. He's face blinked in surprise, "I'll have to ask him."

"Do because we," John pointed between himself and Anna. "Will be dead very soon and we'll need his help to not stay that way."

The toxin John took in twice daily doses spoke to Anna's skill as an amateur chemist and herbalist. The first few days it was uncomfortable and the crowds cheered when he fought through fits of sweats, shivers, vomiting, and even when he coughed up blood. But for each win the cost grew higher. His body betrayed him far more often than not and each day he grew weaker as food refused to remain in his system and his limbs lost all strength. Months of training and honing the skills painstakingly taught him by Mr. Ke were all that stopped John's neck snapping under the skill and power of the men he fought.

But they landed their blows. Blows received in duplicate after each fight as his body bore the brunt of Barrow's baton. It broke skin, left welting bruises, and even led him to vomit more when he struck particularly hard in John's gut. Each blow delivered with the brutal efficiency of a trained man and with the untethered glee of a sadist.

Those blows John could manage, even if they hobbled him, slowed him in his fights, and left him nothing but a mess of purpling skin and swelling contusions. The ones that hurt him more were those Green forced him to bear as he watched the cane strike over Anna's back. She took each strike without a word, giving barely a sigh when Green paused in the beating for John to vomit or continue the display of the violent illness bringing him closer and closer to death every day. He would pretend to lose count and add as many as five additional strikes to Anna's back until neither of them slept on their backs anymore.

The last day of the pits, John staggered toward the ring. His two watchers now practically carried him to the edge of the sand and John could barely see past the haze blocking his vision. Everyone scattered and he could not focus on a single face. Voices directed at him were nothing but scattered sounds ringing dully in his ears until a stinging slap rang across his face.

John's head lolled and he blinked furiously to try and focus on the voice speaking to him but the moment the men holding him released, John dropped to the ground. None of the distantly recognized kicks or prods did more than shift him slightly and John only took vague note of two people lifting him from the ground to carry him away from the ring. The din grew distant and soon the safe swath of silence wrapped around him as he lay on a cot.

"You brought this on yourself." A voice broke through the stuffing in his ears and John could almost make out Anna's face. "Swallow."

Something went down his throat and John tried to wretch it up immediately but Anna's hand closed over his mouth and her other hand held the back of his neck. He could not breathe and swallowed to try and clear his throat to gain air. The second Anna recognized the motion complete, she released his mouth and drew back so John could hack and cough for a moment.

His vision almost immediately cleared and the pain he came to know as a constant in his abdomen immediately faded to a dull thud. A canteen pressed to his lips and he tried to gulp quickly but Anna drew it back. "You'll choke yourself and then vomit again. Slow sips."

Following her instructions, John swallowed slowly until he finally nodded the canteen away. Anna took her place on the stool next to his cot, her elbows landing on her knees. "They said you couldn't fight. Can't even stand."

"I am dying." John tried to laugh but noted the expression on Anna's face. "What? What is it that you've not said?"

"Plenty, I'm sure." Anna took a breath, "There's a risk with this toxin as well you know. A risk that your body might not handle it. That my body might not."

"We'll die otherwise, Anna. You know that." He pointed to his torso, a molting collection of overlaid colors all in various shades of bruise. "I know you're strong but my body can't take more than this."

"So you're willing to die for this?"

"And on the chance that we can find a way to stop those guns."

Anna gave a little snort, "Of course that's the part you'd remember."

"If you think this is idiotic-"

"I think it's noble." Anna shrugged, "I just… I think I forget, too often, what the purpose of all this is when you come in battered and broken for me to stich together with spit and prayers until the next time you come back worse."

"You've prayed for me?"

"I only started praying again so I could plead with God to protect you." Anna's hand covered hers. "You do realize your entire plan is mad, yes?"

"Not as mad as you think."

"You're trusting untested work."

"I'm trusting you," John's hand covered hers. "I'm trusting Mr. Ke and Mrs. He. I'm trusting that these people don't want to die. That we'll not die."

"But we will. Or, at least, that's what they'll think." Anna stood, "You will be careful, yes? You know what you're doing?"

"I'd never hurt you."

Anna nodded and went to another box she pulled from a hiding place amongst the used glassware. The little box opened to reveal two vials. She handed one to John and took one for herself. "They won't taste any better than what you've been taking but they shouldn't be worse."

"How quickly do they-"

"Five minutes or less, almost every time. Sometimes faster." Anna used one hand to pull her collar back. "If you press your thumbs here and here, then I should-"

"I know how to put someone out with a pressure hold." John took the wax seal from the top of his vial and sniffed it before snorting back. "It's worse."

"I'll take your word for it." Anna took the top of hers, breathed out, and then knocked it back in a flash. The back of her hand went over her mouth to stop herself spewing out the contents, and then forced a swallow. The expression on her face told John all he needed to know before he knocked back his as well.

He shuddered through it, dropping the glass in Anna's hand so they could disappear into the used glassware box. "Are you ready?"

"As I can be for this." Anna perched on the edge of the stool. "Go ahead."

John carefully put his hands around Anna's throat, positioning his thumbs on her arteries to press when ready. "Will they believe I killed you in a delirium?"

"Knock a few other things about before you pass out and they should." Anna nodded, "I'm ready."

John went to compress her throat before Anna leaned forward. She kissed him, hard, and then held his gaze as she nodded. John's fingers interlaced behind her neck and he pressed hard with his thumbs. Her skin blued and she struggled a moment before her body went limp in his hands.

Lowering her to the floor, John repositioned his hands and pressed until he was sure it would bruise sufficiently to appear as if he strangled her. He forced himself to his feet, stumbling slightly as his vision hazed, he began shouting incoherently and purposefully knocking into the furniture and cots of the tent. But, after a few moments, it was no longer guided motions as his balance tilted off and he could no longer see clearly. Voices barely made sense in his ears as he toppled and teetered into a cabinet. It crashed about him as his vision went completely black.


	14. At the Vast Compass of the Ocean

John blinked, shivering in the chill wind, and tried to see through the blackness. It shrouded differently than the darkness that held him on the edge of death until Death decided it did not want him as much as John wanted to live. Shrouded more like a moonless night without stars or candles to guide someone foolish enough to be out in it.

Someone recovering from being almost dead.

A sound next to him brought a hand around but his lethargic body would not obey his commands. Instead the arm, usually swift in response after months of training himself to control the minutest part of himself, flapped uselessly and almost smacked John in the face. He tried again, with a similar response, and noted the tingle in his fingertips signaling the desire for blood to engage movement again. A movement that started his body shaking and shuddering as it recovered from the deep anesthetic until he gagged and wretched to the side.

When he did, John finally saw his surroundings. The clutch of fear at his heart almost provided enough adrenaline to move him away from the expressionless face staring unseeing at the sky. But the flop only sent him toppling into another body until John recognized he lay in the pit of bodies. Bodies that waited for the Second Coming to rise again.

Knowing where he would wake and waking there registered as two drastically different emotions. John flailed and wiggled, trying to recover enough of his senses to move away from the dead that surrounded him but his body still fought to recover enough self-mastery to move him from the clutches of the dead. Finally, with a shift and a shudder, he tumbled down a small slope to land hard on the cold ground.

He groaned and finally managed enough control to get a hand under his body to push himself to his knees. The effort of the motion almost dropped him back to the ground as his limbs spasmed as if they might give way, but he recovered and crawled a short distance until the pins and needles twitched in his legs. Twitching that gave him enough motion to miss being hit by Anna's flailing body.

His side caught most of her impact but it still sent them both sprawling into a tangle. A tangle they slowly extricated themselves from as their limbs and digits finally responded to their commands. They extricated themselves from the complicated cling of unresponsive limbs until they could sit themselves up to look at one another.

Anna's shiver, almost invisible in the dark, sounded in John's ears as the chatter of her teeth and he shuffled to her side to try and put their bodies close enough to share the little heat they could. She burrowed closer to him, her teeth chattering so hard and fast John worried she might break them. His arm pulled her impossibly closer and rubbed over her until she subsided, but only slightly.

"Where'd the diggers bury the pack?" John finally managed, his words slurring but the purpose of his speech making it through the confusion of his tongue in his mouth.

"Just… Just beyond… Beyond the hole." Anna tried to point but only managed to shove herself into John's side. "I can't… My body won't…"

"I know." John pushed himself to stand, throwing his arms out to lean heavily on the side of the pit and walk slowly to the end of it. There, kicked by his feet, was a bundle he then dragged back to Anna. Their chilled and convulsing fingers barely tugged the simple knot free so they could bury themselves in the coats wrapping the other items needed for their success.

"We… We need to… Need to leave." Anna swallowed, pulling a hat below her ears and stuffing her hands into her armpits as she rocked onto her knees. John offered a hand as she stood but Anna wobbled to her feet and started a limping gait until her legs finally controlled themselves to walk normally. Normally enough that the occasionally hitch to her step was nothing to stop her.

"We're still half-frozen." John stuffed the spare equipment into the provided rucksack and tucked it under his coat to keep it close to his body. "We can barely move or even speak."

"And if we wait for daylight they'll see us." Anna staggered to the edge of the pit. "We've got to move."

John only sighed and followed her, lifting Anna over the edge of the pit and monkey-ing himself over the lip. They staggered and swayed together, their bodies warming with the movement that helped restore blood to their limbs so they felt more like themselves and less like the walking dead. And, with Anna pointing the way, they managed to move toward the east.

Each hour they walked, tripping and floundering in the dark, they put more distance between them and the mine until dawn peeked over the horizon. Walking directly toward the sun, they continued until Anna tripped for the final time John could stand. He helped her stand and they moved into a copse of trees to finally sit.

His head went back against a tree, his chest heaving with the effort on muscles confused by death and an immediate push for motion. John leaned forward, rubbing his hands furious at his aching and swollen knee until the touch of his hands only increased the pain. Hissing at the flare in the joint, John stretched it out and noted Anna's expression.

"What?"

"Why didn't you stop us sooner?"

"We're trying to escape death." John adjusted his leg, the slight ease giving him a sigh of relief. "Adrenaline and a desire for survival keeps you going when you might otherwise stop."

"Hence how you damaged your leg in the first place." Anna snorted, shaking her head before pointing at the rucksack. "Is there tarp or anything we can use for cover? We should try to rest for a bit and I don't want us exposed to the elements."

John dug out the tarp and handed it over to Anna as she stood to erect a simple shelter for them. "Not the kind of expertise I expected a lady to have."

"You learn things when you live in the wilderness." Anna took the pack and dug out the blankets. "My father also insisted since we have quite a spread in Yorkshire. He didn't want me caught outside without a way to survive."

"Smart man." John crawled into the makeshift tent and shifted so Anna could join him. "I'm sure he misses you."

"He passed when I was nine." Anna snuggled next to John, covering them both with the blankets and burrowing close to him. "I miss him more."

"I'm sorry."

Anna shrugged against him. "It's nothing."

"No, it's not." John moved onto his left side, elevating his aching knee so he could look at Anna. His fingers gingerly stroked over the budding bruises from his hands around her throat. "Neither is this."

"It was necessary." Anna rearranged the blankets. "If we stayed we would've died. This is the price we paid for freedom. We got out and that's what matters."

"Makes me wonder…" John pulled his fingers back but Anna caught them, forcing him to look at her.

"Wonder what?"

"Wonder if we just shouldn't stay dead. Not go back."

"You know we can't do that."

"We could."

"No," Anna shook her head, "We can't leave them to die."

"Then you've more confidence in me than I have." John tapped his leg. "I didn't think this would be a problem but we've been gone no more than eight hours and already it's slowing us down."

"We tried to kill ourselves, walked for hours, and haven't eaten in almost a day." Anna shook her head, "Don't count yourself out just yet. We can still save them. We have to try, at least."

John took a deep breath, "Your theory, about Christmas, New Year, and the Chinese New Year…"

"What about it?"

"What makes you so sure that it'll be Chinese New Year?"

"If Green wants to use those guns, he'll have to have cover for them. Even more so if he plans to blow the mine to bury the evidence of what he's done there." Anna shuddered, "The best way to cover explosions is when everyone will be using them. And the best time of year to predict explosions are the fireworks everyone fires at Chinese New Year. It's only a week after New Year and that's the perfect time to maneuver around the British army."

"Holiday."

Anna nodded, "If Green's realized the mine's running dry-"

"Which he has, because he's not an idiot."

"Then he'll know the best time to end his little adventure will be then. This deal, with the Germans, is so he can have all his ducks in a row."

"And shoot them all at once." John drummed his fingers against the ground. "We need to stop him getting those guns."

"That's why we're heading east. Jiao Zhou Bay is where Barrow's docked his smuggling ships. If the Germans are there already, with the Turkish, then they'll be in the Bay as well."

"Especially after the display Green gave them with me."

Anna let out a breath, "We'll find the guns and take them first."

"And what, other than toss them into the bay, could we really do with a collection of automated weapons?" John held up his hands, "I can only hold two and unless you've got arms you've not told me about, we can't handle more than four guns total. I'll bet the shipment is quite a bit larger."

"You forget," Anna held up a finger, wagging it at John. "We're not the first people I've gotten out of camp by pretending they're dead."

"Mr. Ke's fighters?" Anna nodded and John puffed out his cheeks. "Alright, how do we get the guns into the hands of the fighters? Fighters, I'll hazard to say, have no experience firing weapons of any kind."

Anna paused before a smile took over her face. "How lucky for them that a former Army Captain can teach them to shoot."

John shook his head, "I'll take no part in teaching people how to kill one another again."

"Did you expect us to take the mine without bloodshed?"

"I hoped to avoid taking back the mine altogether, honestly." John met Anna's eyes, "I know. It's cowardly and selfish but I'm tired of fighting Anna. I'm tired of fighting battles for other people."

"This isn't your battle?"

"I don't know anymore." John closed his eyes. "I just… I can't hold a gun and not think about that boy. I haven't touched a gun since."

Anna's hand settled on his cheek and John opened his eyes. "These men'll need you. They need to take back their people and their home. After that you can lay down all your weapons of war and beat your sword into a ploughshare."

"If I can't teach them, and they die, then that's on my conscience just as much as that boy."

"They're fighting for their home, John." Anna's hand slipped to cover his, their fingers warming slightly as they interlaced. "No one fights harder."

John took a breath and nodded. "If I train them, and if we take back the mine, then we need to take the gold too."

"Why?"

"Because it's what Green cares about. He's worked those people to death to get it and if we can take it from him then it's as if we've taken his legs."

Anna pursed her lips, nodding slowly before speaking in a soft voice. "I want to take Green. Whatever else happens, he's mine."

John studied her face before nodding. "He's yours."

Anna blinked in surprise, "You'll not argue?"

"Why would I?"

"Because I'm a woman and, traditionally speaking, men don't take too kindly to women saying they're planning murder."

"I'd have to care about him to worry that it might stain your soul." John shrugged a shoulder, "As far as I'm concerned you're removing a rabid dog from the earth before it can bite and poison anyone else. It's a public service."

"And you don't want him?"

"I can deal with Green's body. I only need Barrow alive."

"You don't want to kill him?"

"I want to kill him with every fiber of my body, after beating him nearly to death, but someone's got to clear my name and he's the only one who can."

Anna shook her head, "He'll never help you. He's spiteful and vicious. He'll take whatever beating you give him and then spit in your face if you threatened him with death instead of helping you. He wouldn't know how to give a kindness to anyone and he'll certainly do you no kind turn. It's futile and you'll enjoy killing him more than watching him gloat in his last moments."

"You forget, we'll have too much evidence for him to deny." John snuggled closer to Anna. "We'll both get what we need."

"Is that a promise?"

"It's a guarantee."

They slept until the sun rose high enough to shine through the makeshift tent. Their positions kept them warm enough but they still rubbed their hands together and stomped their feet to try and recover the sensation in their extremities. Once they broke camp, managing some of the dried food Mr. Ke packed for them and finding John a stout enough branch to serve as a cane, they set off east again.

By midmorning the next day, stiff with cold and residual pain, they finally saw the harbor. Ships, with their flapping sails and beckoning flags, rose and fell lethargically on the waves as the distant whip of cloth rang in John's ears. It gave them both enough strength to stagger toward the port but Anna stopped them just short of the roads leading into the bustling markets.

"Did anyone have instructions to meet us?" John frowned in confusion as Anna looked around the side of a tree. "There weren't any instructions with the supplies Mr. Ke gave us."

"No, but there is a standing order for any who do make it out. They're to come here, report to an inn, and get instructions if there are any to be had." Anna peeked again and smiled, "And the sign says we're clear."

John followed Anna, trying to ignore the stares as they wove head- and sometimes head-and-shoulders- above those about them. "How do we know none of the people here'll report seeing us coming from the road?"

"We don't but we'll hope that enough traffic from the port'll convince people to forget we were here." Anna shrugged, "It also helps to realize that everyone who wishes us ill believes we're dead so there's not much to worry about."

"We hope." John shivered, "It'll be something to talk about if we see Barrow or Green here."

"Green won't leave the mine in anyone's hands." Anna directed them into the inn, avoiding a group of departing seamen matching every ethnicity John could name on one hand. He blinked and turned to Anna, who only shrugged. "We're not special here."

"What a relief." John followed her to a back table where a man taller than the average Chinese sat with a pair of chopsticks expertly digging into a bowl of rice.

The moment the man caught sight of them he was up in a moment and bowing low to Anna. She tried to get him to stand up before anyone noticed but a few of the sailors around them raised their eyebrows before turning back to their meals and conversations. Anna shuffled the man back to his seat and urged John into the one next to her.

"I never thought you'd get away Nurse. I thought he'd keep you there until one of you died."

Anna flexed her jaw, "That's what happened William."

His eyes widened and he pointed between John and Anna. "You both took the toxin? You died?"

Anna nodded, "Yes and we need your help."

"Always." He pushed the half-finished bowl away. "What do you need me to do? I'm at your disposal."

"I need to know if you ever got word to Hong Kong about what's going on here. If anyone knows."

William's eyes dropped and he shook his head. "The men with the telegrams in Beijing wouldn't… What's the phrase, give me the time of day."

Anna shook her head, eyes closed in resigned frustration. "I should've known. It was a shot in the dark all the same."

"Then you're here to deliver a message to Hong Kong?"

"No, we're here to seize a ship with German guns on it." Anna leaned over the table toward William. "What do you know about what Barrow's been smuggling through here?"

"I know he's been working with ships flying Turkish flags but I don't know anything about German guns." William paused, "But I do follow Barrow when he's here and, lately, he's been here a lot."

"Is he here now?"

William shook his head, "But his friend, the one with a darker face and funnier accent is. Been waiting in another hotel since the end of the fighting season."

John turned to Anna, "If Pamuk's here…"

"Then we could find out when the guns are coming from the horse's mouth." Anna sucked the inside of her cheeks before turning back to William. "Who else is here to help you?"

"No one. The rest of them either found work on the docks or they're living on farms in the surrounding area."

"Are they ready to fight?"

William puffed out his chest a bit, "We're always ready."

"Do you know how to use a gun?" John asked and William finally looked at him, almost surprised John could participate in a conversation held entirely in Mandarin between he and Anna.

"I've shot a rifle once."

"Any of the others?" William shook his head and John raised an eyebrow at Anna. "We'll need a place to train them. We can't hide that kind of noise around a port town. People'll get suspicious and we've not got the room."

"One thing at a time." Anna tapped the table to get William's attention again. "We need money. For a room here to rest, heal, and wash. Can you manage that?"

"Of course." William pushed back from the table, "We've a standing room here. You'll have to share it but I'll have bath water brought to you."

"Good," John stood as well, mindful of his still throbbing leg. "Because I'm sure I could scrape enough mud off myself to manage a golem of myself."

William only furrowed his brow in confusion. "What's a golem?"

"Never mind his humor." Anna waved down the question. "We'll also need your eyes on that man, Pamuk."

"What for?"

"We need to seize his ship before he can get it."

William blinked at them. "We've not got enough men for that."

"We only need to seize him." John clarified. "He's the kind of person easily manipulated and he won't put up much of a fight. Once we've got him then we'll get his ship and his guns. It'll be easier than you think."

William's expression said all he did not about the doubts running through his mind but he kept quiet and handed Anna a key. "Fourth door on the left."

Anna's eyebrows raised. "The fourth?"

William nodded solemnly, "It's why we can keep the room. It's cheap."

"I just hope it's not unlucky." Anna motioned for John to follow her and they worked their way up the stairs to the room.

Once inside it took very little time for them to remove their clothes and leave them in a pile on the floor, almost sighing in relief at escaping the cling of the road, the dead, and their trek. John paused, about to remove his undergarments, and met Anna's eyes. "What about other clothes? Those are the only ones I brought."

"William can get us some others."

Anna had her hands ready to untie the thin straps that kept the silk cover hanging over her chest when someone knocked on the door. She paused her efforts to walk the distance to open it so John had a view of her naked back. Despite the exhaustion in his body, it reacted at the sight of Anna's state of undress and he hurried to put his back to the door as the shuffle of feet over the floor signaled guests. He turned in time to watch as they hauled a large wooden tub into the room before opening a panel in the side of the wall to reveal a bamboo spout.

John's jaw fell open as the men strung little bamboo pieces to strings and yanked them so they slithered out of sight. A moment later, a rush of steaming water flooded into the tub and John almost sighed in relief at the immediate sensation of height coming from the tub. It filled quickly and the men added a few additional ingredients to leave it perfumed before bowing to both John and Anna as they left the room.

Almost afraid to touch it, John dipped his fingers into the water and shivered at the perfect temperature. "What is this?"

"You've never been to a bathhouse?"

"Usually you have to go to the bath, they don't bring it to you."

"One of the benefits of this inn is that it used to be a bathhouse. An enterprising individual decided to make it multifunctional and built the rooms around the design. "Anna put her fingers back to the ties at her neck. "You can get in if you want."

"No," John shook his head, opening his hands toward the tub. "Ladies first."

"The water'll be tepid, if not cold, by the time I finish." Anna dropped her hands to her hips. "We should share it."

"Not a wise idea."

"Why not?" Anna frowned and then her gaze flicked downward. The small smile spreading over her lips had John trying to stand sideways. "I'd thought it too much to hope for but I guess dreams do come true."

"What?" John blinked in confusion as Anna dropped her trousers and knickers to step into the tub.

It reached to her thighs but John's jaw could not stay closed as Anna finally released the ties at her neck to leave her standing naked in the tub. Once she dropped the flimsy cloth to the side of the tub, she walked the distance to John and laid her hands over his. They pulled away from the crotch of his trousers and Anna helped shimmy them down his legs, along with his pants, to leave him as naked as she was. Her grip on his wrists forced him to follow her as she stepped back, making him step into the tub with her.

"I worried, after what Green did, that you'd be afraid."

"Of you?"

"Of yourself." Anna's fingers stroked along John's arm as she eased them to sit facing one another in the tub, the water immediately soothing all the soreness and aches from John's body. "The difficulty, when watching someone you love suffer, is not holding yourself accountable later. It's facing them and realizing the fault lies with neither one of you but with the perpetrator alone."

"I tried, I promise I tried but-"

Anna put her fingers over John's mouth, moving so her knees were on either side of his legs as tears pricked his eyes. "I know. You fought harder and longer than anyone had any right to and I know why. I know what you suffered for me and I know what you did for me."

"But…" John's fingers moved around to Anna's back, noticing the flinch and wince when he touched the newer injuries dappled amongst the old. "It still caused you pain. It wasn't enough."

"Love," Anna's fingers on his cheek moved John enough to meet her eyes. "Is allowing the chance that people will hurt you. That you'll suffer pain for another because they matter more than yourself. That you'll fight until you've no more breath and then keep fighting because they'd fight for you."

Her fingers continued to stroke his face, leaving him wincing when she touched healing bruises and swollen skin. "You fought for me. That's what matters to me. That's what I want you to remember."

"But the pain-"

"Is temporary." Anna hushed him, her lips ghosting over his injuries. "The pleasure, on the other hand, that can last much longer."

Even with his body a mass of molted bruises and injuries, John could not help but respond with vigorous enthusiasm when Anna's lips took his. The tiny pricks of pain when they pressed together or when her fingers grazed a sensitive spot were nothing compared to the passionate kisses she scattered over his skin. Or the touch of her hands sculpting and tracing his body. Or the way she keened when he allowed his fingers to skate over her back to knead at her ass. Or when her hand moved between them to hold and squeeze at his arousal.

John pulled their lips apart, watching Anna's eyes as she shifted her hand to mold and caress him. He clacked his jaw trying to grit his teeth but it proved enough of a distraction to leave her grinning at his supposed search for control under her affections. The turn for his triumphant grin came when his fingers moved between her legs to stroke at her folds.

"I wonder," He leaned forward, whispering in her ear when her fingers curled into the hair at the back of his neck. "How you could think I would want to do anything but adore you after what happened. After all you endured… You're only made holier, and higher to me because of the suffering you've been put through."

"You told me that once before." Anna whimpered in his ear, her hand faltering where his gained momentum between her legs.

"It's as true now as it was then."

"I think the same." Her lips pressed to his neck, kissing with abandon at his skin while her fingers tried to seek a better hold over him when John used two of his to enter her. "What you bore for me… What you're willing to do now."

"It's all for you," John paused, shifting to look at Anna again. "It's selfish but I don't care about them. This isn't about them. It's about you. If you'll fight this to the end then so will I."

Anna watched him, her body pausing like a quivering string, before she closed the distance. Their lips met, the kiss spinning out of control as they both tried to bring the other to pleasure before they could succumb themselves. But Anna abandoned the attempt and removed John's fingers from between her legs with the hand she formerly held on him. The same hand she used to align them so she could sink down to the hilt on him.

John's head went back, his exposed next once again the site for Anna's assault of affection on his skin. His hands moved to her ass in an attempt to guide her motions as her knees dug into the bottom of the tub to work herself up and down on him. They held together, their bodies sliding in the water and reminding John of their first foray in the cave. But the water here lapped at the edge of the tub and he slowed their motions to avoid leaking evidence of their exploits over the floor.

Instead, he shifted and moved, mindful of the restrictions of the tub and their injuries, to use slow strokes that struck deeply inside Anna. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she took his lead to rock her hips and grind down to meet his thrusts. Their fingers intertwined in time with their kisses and they worked between their bodies to allow first Anna and then John to climax.

The water settled as they did, sighing and continuing short kisses before Anna slid herself off John's legs. "I believe this bath was to help we get clean."

"Then come here," John motioned her back toward him, snagging a cloth and dipping it in the water. "I can help you."

"You'll only seduce me."

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

Anna shook her head and maneuvered between John's legs so he could wash over her back. The scars and marks of her back took careful scrubbing and gentle wipes of the cloth but soon shined pink from the effort. His hands cupped water to douse over her head and leave her hair streaming so he could rub soap into it. When she dipped back, rinsing it out, John leaned over to kiss her lips. Anna's hand held to his cheek, keeping their position as long as she could before breaking the kiss to sit straight again.

She moved to take the cloth but John shook his head, "Not finished."

"What?"

"You'll have to stand or I'll never get your legs."

Anna narrowed her eyes but stood, her hands going to John's shoulders as he maneuvered to wash both her feet and then up her legs. The closer he reached toward her ass, the more Anna twitched under him. And she cried out loud enough for whatever neighbors might share the rooms on either side of theirs to hear when he ran his tongue along her folds. The cries only continued as his tongue and fingers set to work bringing her to the edge. An edge John did not bring her to once, but twice as he sucked hard on her clit and his fingers plunged deep inside her.

Nails dug new scars into his shoulders as Anna's legs quivered under his hold and John helped ease her back into the water. But she only went to her knees, drawing John into her so she could suck her taste from his mouth. A taste she used to maneuver herself to the side of the tub before John realized he was on his hands and knees behind her.

"If your knee's up for it." Anna urged as she crouched, holding the side of the tub with firm fingers.

John's hands slid over her back, the wet shine of water beading over her skin so the lights in the room forced the scars into starker contrast. A contrast he traced with his lips and tongue until Anna whimpered before him. He continued his assault but timed it with the thrusts he drove slowly into her as the welcoming wet suck beckoned him forward. Each thrust brought them closer and the noises escaping Anna's mouth matched those that strangled from his throat in perfect harmony. A harmony replicated at the sound of John's guttural finish and Anna's more high-pitched cry.

They slumped back into the water, tepid now instead of steaming. John tried to lift himself but Anna put a hand on him. He frowned but Anna applied the same cloth from before and left his skin pink and a little raw from her attentions. Attentions that also applied to twitching and straining arousal he tried to ease as he rose from the water and sought out a towel to dry himself.

But the caress of the material over his skin, the sight of Anna matching his motions on the other side of the tub, and the draw of the bed large enough to possibly hold them both had John biting the inside of his cheek. Anna's grin only aroused him further when she lay back on the bed and curled her fingers to bring him closer. "Are you going to keep me waiting?"

John shook his head, almost dumbfounded, and walked over to the bed. His gait caught and he grimaced as he reached the bed. Anna put her hands out, trying to move to give him a better position, but John shook his head and laid her back down with a hand on her shoulder.

"I can manage."

Her smile perked up the corners of her mouth. "'Course you can."

Their lips met, their hands ravished one another, and they traded positions of hands and mouths until their skin dotted with red marks from sucking caresses and nipping teeth. John gained the upper hand when he managed to skate down Anna's body and use his mouth on her again. But the moment he surfaced, thinking her prone and sated by her orgasm, Anna's hand found him and stroked mercilessly until they joined again.

Wrapping around one another, they moved slowly. Quick motions threatened to end in clinched muscles and spasmed limbs so they set a rhythm that left them breathing together. Their kisses turned desperate where their bodies turned lax and when they finally came again, John straining to reach his end first and Anna falling over the edge with the fluttering work of their trembling hands, they collapsed on the thin mattress. The wooden supports groaned slightly and John laughed into the skin of Anna's shoulder as her fingers ran into his hair with her giggles vibrating back through his body.

"I think the bed was made for smaller people." John moved himself up, laying on his side to keep weight off his leg.

"Or those not so athletically inclined." Anna grinned back, kissing John's cheek as his fingers traced over the bruises still marking her neck. Her hand covered his and she kissed his palm. "It's part of the price we paid John."

"I never wanted to pay that price." His eyes met hers. "I wanted to live a quiet life in Beijing and maybe drink myself to death in a gutter."

"Is this so much worse?"

"It's so much better." John let a smile come over his face but he recognized the mirrored shadow of sadness on Anna's face. "I couldn't have imagined finding something worth the price we're paying."

"Helping people?"

"You." John's fingers maneuvered back to bring her hand to his mouth so he could kiss over her knuckles. "I don't regret it."

"Neither do I." Anna whispered, as if raising their voices would break the moment and give them away. "I don't regret any of it."

"I should." John took a breath, "I should regret so much of it but I can't find it in me to. I… I'd do it all over again, knowing the outcome, if it meant I'd get to be with you. It's worth it to me."

"Me too." Anna's fingers ran over his face as John pulled the covers over them. "I love you, John Bates."

"And I love you." He kissed her, settling them into the bed. "However, whatever, and whenever."

"You might come to regret that."

"Never." He smiled against her skin, breathing her in until they fell asleep. "I'll never regret it."


	15. At the Circular Motion of the Stars

John opened his eyes, pushing up from the bed and trying not to wake Anna as he stretched his aching leg. She shifted and moaned as she opened her eyes. "Are you alright?"

"My leg's been better." John moved off the bed and put his foot against the floor to try and stretch out his leg. "I do hope I'm not running anywhere in the near future or I could permanently damage myself."

"Probably true." Anna wrapped one of the sheets around herself and came around the bed, dragging a stool over to sit on it before pulling John's leg into her lap. "If you don't think it's intrusive, I could help you."

"I didn't want to impose." Anna only raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not like you've got much more sleep than I have lately and it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity to allow you a chance to sleep in peace on a real bed."

"You're very kind, and generous, but," Anna's fingers dug into John's leg and he hissed as his leg twitched. "You do need help."

"I'm not sure your help won't make it worse."

"Only for a moment." Anna winked at him, massaging the tender muscles and digging deep to find the knots. "This takes me back."

"To you caring over my broken and battered body?"

"I thought it was a nice body then." Anna smiled as John jerked in her grasp. "Easy there, Captain, or someone might think I made a salacious suggestion."

"You've got one there, I can tell."

"Not until I've gotten your leg all sorted." Anna's palms pressed and John grunted in pain. "The knot's almost out, I promise."

"Might as well just hand you a bone saw and have done with it."

"And then how would we run anywhere when you're wobbling even more at one end than normal?" Anna continued digging with her fingers until the knot loosened and John sighed at the dual release of pressure.

"I'd give my right arm so you'd stop this before you leave me an invalid."

"Not your left?"

"I'm left handed." John waved the hand in the air. "I need it to handle everything or else I'm useless."

"You'll be useless if you're wobbling at both ends but…" Anna used her knuckles to leave John groaning and grabbing at the sheets as his leg howled in pain. "Sorry, thought that would distract you."

"It didn't." John gritted through his teeth, laying back on the bed. "I wonder what our neighbors must think."

"If they think anything at all, they'll probably chalk it up to odd foreigners and their even stranger ways." Anna finished with his leg and carefully maneuvered from the stool to leave his leg extended there. "Or that we prefer violent sexual activities… Quite in opposition to the decorums of both our societies."

John bawled his hands into fists and ground at his eyes, the pain in his leg settling but not dissipating as quickly as he wished. "My mother once caught me, when I was young, with a girl in my room."

"She did?"

"It was…" John shuddered, sitting up. "I never saw the girl again and when I could finally sit down again, my mother took the time to give me a rather detailed, hand-drawn diagram of what I'd done."

Anna's hands went over her mouth as her eyes widened and John tried not to focus on the fact the sheets slipped over her shoulders to hint at her breasts. "She never did!"

John nodded, "She was very adamant that I'd… Misused that girl's time and I owed it to any woman I sought in the future to treat them with a bit more dignity than, in her words, 'a boar rutting a sow in the stall'."

Anna's eyes closed and she eventually moved her hands away from her face. "I couldn't even begin to imagine the horror if my mother had even attempted to say any of those things to me."

"Did you fall to the seduction of any of the local boys and get caught?"

"First," Anan held up a finger, "If anyone was doing the seducing, it was me. Second, I wouldn't get caught."

John snorted, "None of us are that careful."

"I was." Anna smiled, "I remember, once, I managed to lure this Marquess into a greenhouse and took him over the edge when we were hidden in the ferns not five steps from where his mother was having a political conversation."

"You…" John's jaw dropped at Anna's nod. "With your hands or…"

"Mouth." Anna closed her eyes, as if reliving the moment. "I changed that poor boy's life. He almost fainted when he came."

"I'd suspect I might as well if a woman as beautiful as you took me in a greenhouse where anyone could see."

"Well," Anna slipped forward, nudging John's good leg to the side so she could slot her shoulders between them before setting her hands to smooth over his thighs. "I guess I could give you a demonstration."

"Now?"

"We're not the kind of people to believe in doing something like this with the lights off and as quietly as possible." Anna's hands continued running over his skin, the tingles of her fingers hosting a flurry of far preferable sensations in John to contrast her earlier work on his injury. "So I don't see why we shouldn't indulge."

"Only if it's what you want." John risked a hand to her jaw, holding there as Anna pushed on his knees to lift herself to put a knee on the edge of the bed. Dangerously close to where morning and the sight of her slowly exposing body helped him rise to the occasion. "I don't want you to-"

Anna put a finger over John's lips, waiting until they closed. She let her finger slip away slowly, dragging over his lower lip before taking it between her teeth. They grazed there before she ran her tongue between his lips and his teeth. John shivered at the flare across the nerves there before Anna's hand formed around his jaw to hold him in place as her tongue took control of his mouth. Only when he moaned for air did she release him.

"I never do anything with you I don't want to do John." Anna's other hand, the one not giving her support to stroke her thumb over his cheekbone, slid down his chest to push him back to lay sideways over the bed. "And I enjoyed this the last time I had the chance."

"It wasn't-"

"If you speak again," Anna's hand clamped over his mouth, "I'll gag you."

John's nostrils flared and he bucked against her body, her knee riding the line of his growing erection, and Anna peeked down between them before a leering expression took over her face. "Well, if you like that idea, then I guess I'll have to do something about it."

She moved away from John, the sheets falling over him as they left her body. He did not move, paralyzed by her suggestion and the sight of her walking nude and nonchalant across the room to the basin of water next to the stove. The bath, moved in the night, no longer occupied the floor so Anna cut the shortest distance between them to crawl back onto the bed. Her knees dug into the mattress on either side of his chest, holding there to support her weight as she twisted the cloth in her hand until it tightened and thickened.

"Bite." Anna put it between John's teeth and her fingers caressed the edges of his jaw as she withdrew, leaving the cloth securely between his teeth. "Now it'll just be me talking and, I promise, there won't be much time for that."

Tucking hair behind her ear, Anna huffed and lifted herself up. John bit into the cloth at the pull of Anna's body as she brought her arms back to twist and wrangle her hair back into a tight bun she secured with a loose bit of rope until it no longer impeded her. She made as if to move back onto him but stopped, as if she could read the expression John raked over her as she kneeled above him like a goddess about to accept a sacrifice.

Anna's leer only deepened and John watched as she sinuously worked her hands down her body. They slowed near her breasts, manipulating them as if retracing ground only vaguely remembered, before moving to stroke over her abdomen. Her knees dug into the mattress and his sides but John ignored the flares of pain when the pressure impacted his healing bruises as the sight of Anna's hands working between her own legs utterly captivated him.

Both her face, in experimental excitement, and her fingers were in full view. John bit harder on the cloth, the slight ache in his jaw keeping him from moving as he assumed the imperative for silence also applied to his movements. And Anna's reaction, to his complete and utter devotion to her orders only spurred her onward. Her fingers moved faster inside her and John groaned against the cloth as her skin reddened and swelled, the dew on her fingers spreading and the shine of it sliding down her fingers and legs. Digging his fingers into the sheets, John stopped himself aiding Anna as she brought herself over the edge with a hoarse cry that left her legs shaking around him.

But she managed her balance, resting into her knees and thighs before landing on his chest. She rocked her hips when John moaned at the damp trace she left on his abdomen and ground back to run her wet folds over the hardened length of him as she took her position just below him. Anna tucked herself back, pushing her knees forward, and held herself on the edge of the bed as she gyrated against John. He could only watch the spread of her legs as she taunted him until whimpers escaped through the gag of the cloth.

He might have made the mistake of assuming her move to his side was sympathy for his position, but Anna's immediate bend over him said otherwise. And when she wrapped her hand around his base John knew her plans were anything but merciful. A fact confirmed when her lips sucked shallowly at his head until his hips jerked and thrust helplessly into the tempting torture of her mouth. A torture that only increased the deeper she managed to take him until the hollowing of her cheeks and the threat of her throat had John grinding and thrusting with abandon.

Before he could finish, a sigh lost in the trap of the cloth amplifying the ache in his jaw, Anna pulled back. She kissed just at his base before tracing her tongue over the pulsing vein running the underside of him. Her fingers tucked loose hairs behind her ears as her fingers removed the cloth from his mouth.

John swallowed, the dryness in his mouth almost a shock given the way he assumed he salivated at her display and performance. He gasped for air, hissing out when Anna's hand loosely held him to tease her fingers along the length of him before tapping at the tip. She did not speak and he followed her lead as Anna swung her leg over him. But instead of facing him, Anna left her back exposed to John's view and sheathed him with all the care and attention she exemplified in her earlier actions. Actions that eased their slide until it was no time at all before they rested skin to skin.

Her legs tucked back, her hands on his thighs, and Anna leaned forward as if to give John a better view of her back. His hands, almost cramped from their mindless clutch of the sheets, spread over her skin to follow the ridged pattern of her scars. Taking care for the newer scars crisscrossing the old, John smoothed and massaged as Anna shivered. The motion spread to John and he grunted to stop himself but the automatic response of his body led to a whimper from Anna.

Like the night before, John moved slowly. Anna's hands spread over his skin, holding when she wanted to ride through a motion or rock on him, but mostly she conveyed her adoration through her gentle touches. Touches John tried to return to her, using his fingers at first and then his tongue when he sat up behind Anna. It altered their position, moving her legs behind them, and gave John a view down her body again.

He held very still, closing his eyes as if to stop a primal reaction but also to memorize the view. The one that went between her breasts to where she opened around him. The view that gave sight to the sensations urging John to move. And he gave over to them as they started to move.

With the change in position, John could no longer run his hands over her back but his chest still absorbed the abrasive brush of her scars. Anna rested her head back on his shoulder, giving John access to her neck as his hands to her abdomen. They held there a moment, as if debating the possible choices, before both cupped her breasts. Anna only moaned when his thumbs brushed over her nipples and he set to massaging her in time with the thrusts he managed with his left foot on the floor providing the leverage for movement.

One of Anna's hands fit in the space between his, guiding John's eyes downward to watch as she ran her fingers over her swollen folds to touch where he might if his hands were not otherwise occupied. Her other hand reached back, gripping into his hair, and guided his view to remain watching her while her mouth shifted to breathe into his ear.

"Watch us John."

Her wish was his command and he watched. The speed of her fingers set the pace and John obeyed it, the length and depth of her strokes leading him to attempt to match them with his own motions. And when she tightened around him, clinging with her fingers and her vaginal walls, John could do naught but succumb and follow her over the edge to ecstasy.

They settled, their bodies moving together as they crested and came over to finally find enough air to breathe again. Anna's fingers loosened in his hair, grazing at his skin as she disentangled herself from their position to stand. She took the cloth, tossed onto the bed after removing it from John's mouth, and walked back to the pitcher to wet it.

Returning to him, Anna ran it over his skin until John shivered at the aftermath of sensation. "Just a tad sensitive."

"And responsive." Anna ran her tongue over her teeth and John groaned. "Worry not, I'll not torture you further this morning."

"You won't?" John watched her walk back to the basin again, wetting the cloth to run over herself. "Because if that is how you maintain a distance from torment then you're on the wrong path."

Anna laughed, reaching for one of the tied bundles hear the door to toss to him. "You'll need to get dressed."

"Did William already find Pamuk?"

Anna held up a note, attached to the smaller bundle, and handed it over to John as she untied the simple knot in her hair. "Left it in the night. I believe we were both… decently covered that they only felt a bit of embarrassment when they took our bath and left us clothes."

John reddened and buried his face in the note before the characters swam before his eyes. "You might need to read this to me. At the rate I'm still muddling through characters it'll take me an age."

"Then how will you ever learn?" Anna feigned tutting at him before looping her brain up to pin to her hair in an almost-crown. It framed her face perfectly but also kept the hair out of her way and stopped it being an attacker's advantage. "It says that he's got a few men running a random rotation on Pamuk. He thinks the best time for us to get him will be this evening. Tide's low and, from what they've heard, he'll be going out to a ship."

"He's leaving port?"

Anna nodded, "I think we'd best make sure he misses his boat." John pursed his lips, forcing Anna to pause her motions. "What?"

"What if we make sure he gets his boat?"

"It'd be a way out of here. We take his ship and force him to get us away."

"That hardly solves our gun problem."

"But it does solve the problem of getting a ship to sail when we've not got the numbers to commandeer one ourselves." John shrugged, "It's a thought wroth considering, should the need arise."

"Then, when that moment comes, you'll have the chance to prove whether or not you'd make a good pirate on the high seas."

John puffed out his chest slightly. "I'll have you know that I've ancestors who were Spanish privateers."

"I seem to recall that the Spanish Armada's not been anything to sneeze at since our great Queen Elizabeth smashed them in the seventeenth century." Anna tied the bit of silk at her neck before getting her arms into the sleeves of an overshirt. "Get yourself dressed and we can discuss our pirate names."

When they left the room, leaving their destroyed clothes to cook in the stove and holding the other layers they would need when they braved the out of doors, Anna and John found William in the common room of the inn. He blushed upon seeing them, refusing to meet their eyes as he spoke. "The best time for us to capture your Turk will be when he goes to the brothel."

"He's got time for that?" John raised an eyebrow to Anna, who only shrugged but William nodded.

"He makes time." He handed a stick over the table to John, "To help you walk. It's stronger than it looks."

"Bamboo?" John handled the light piece before pressing it into the floor, satisfied by the construction. "Thank you."

"You'll need it if you want to capture this man. If not to keep up with them then perhaps to use aside his head."

John gave a little laugh, clearing the blush from William's cheeks. "What've your men discovered about him?"

"Other than that he enjoys prostitutes?" William shrugged, "According to what one of our men heard, he is sailing to Hong Kong tonight?"

Anna frowned, "Has he already sold the guns?"

"From what we overheard, the deal is still in progress."

"The Germans haven't sold the guns yet?" John turned to Anna, "What was the rush with the fighting pits if the guns aren't even here?"

"I'd suspect it'll have something to do with the fighting already taking over the province." William paused, the confusion on John and Anna's faces forcing some onto his own. "You weren't aware?"

"We're not allowed news." John leaned over the table, "What fighting?"

"The British are calling them the Boxers. They're men who can fight like we can. Those taught in the martial ways. Some of them want to expel all foreigners from the Middle Kingdom and they're uniting to try and do just that."

"I can't imagine the King's too happy about his subservient colony deciding it doesn't want him around." Anna muttered to John before addressing William again. "Is that keeping ships here?"

"It's keeping soldiers occupied. If not for the mine growing dry, I'd suspect Mr. Green'd have to shut down operations if they got too close to what he's doing."

"Are any of ours caught in the fighting?"

William nodded, his lips set in a grim line. "Some of them believe it's the reason they were freed, to fight to expel all those like Green."

"Then we've already lost them." Anna shrugged at John. "If they succeed they'll have no reason to return and if they fail they'll die… Or get executed."

"Then the Germans haven't delivered the guns because of the tensions?"

William gave another nod, "I'd suspect they want to make sure they'll not deliver something bound for the men trying to kill them."

"Then isn't it lucky we've got argument with them."

Anna shook her head at John's comment. "Let's not count our chickens before we get them in a row. We've not even found out when the guns are coming."

"That's something our Turkish friend'll tell us." John turned to William. "What kind of plan have you all hatched for this?"

They wandered the streets during the day, keeping a rotating watch over Pamuk as he made final preparations for his voyage. Their patterns intersected when Pamuk entered a brothel, their trio and a few others converging on the doorway to wait until Pamuk found a room. Anna paid the woman at the door and she allowed them, guiding them to the door Pamuk used, before heading deeper into the building.

Anna turned to William and the other men. "I think we'll only need William. The rest of you should make your back to the others. We'll need to move quickly when we get the information."

"How?" One of them whispered, the group distracted a moment at sounds of exaggerated moaning coming from the room.

Anna rolled her eyes, "William'll bring it to you. Whatever else happens with Mr. Pamuk'll be on my head."

"And mine." John clarified and the men shuffled a moment before bidding their farewells and vanishing into the night. He handed Anna his cane, "You'll need it more than me in a moment."

"Yes I think I will."

William and John took sides of the door and entered in a rush, leading the way for Anna before closing and blocking the door as the prostitute turned over her shoulder and squealed. Pamuk, standing almost naked in front of them, proved no match for Anna as she snatched John's cane to bring across his face. He staggered, stumbling to hit the floor and hold his face as the prostitute tried to grab her clothing as quickly as she could.

Anna tossed John his cane and helped the woman. They spoke quickly in Chinese before Anna paid her and ushered the half-dressed girl out the door. William blushed again, nodding at her before blocking the door as John hauled Pamuk to his feet by the scruff of his neck. The man whimpered as they dropped him on the bed and John tossed him a towel.

"You might want to cover up. You'll need to be presentable for this."

"What?" Pamuk shuffled on the bed, yanking at his pants and trousers, trying to resolve the biological difficulty and confusion of one minute engaging in sex and the next being ready to piss himself in fear. "Who are you?"

"I'd be offended if I had the time." John eased himself onto a stool in front of him. "We need to know when you're bringing your German friends back to Green to deliver those guns he seemed so excited to have at the fighting pits."

Pamuk's eyes widened, and he almost tried to crawl off the side of the bed but John clamped a hand on his ankle to tug him back. "You're the fighter. The one Barrow took such pleasure in beating."

"Yes and he's the one who arranged the meeting to try and sell Green the guns." John snapped the fingers of his other hand when Pamuk's eyes kept darting to Anna. "Focus, Mr. Pamuk. As I said, we've not much time."

"They aren't here."

"I know they're not. I'm asking where they are."

"Where she belongs." Pamuk pointed at Anna, who only folded her arms over her chest. "I remember you. Lady Mary's ball in Hong Kong. You're Lady Islington."

"Mr. Pamuk," John yanked the man's ankle, almost upsetting him off the end of the bed. "I'm here about the guns, not better memories."

"As I said," Pamuk tried to wrest himself from John's hold but gave up when his strength proved unequal to the task. "They're in Hong Kong. The unrest here made it too dangerous to bring them and the Germans. We're smuggling them under the British nose in the region and they'd sniff a few too many things wrong to bring both at the same time."

"What'll tell the ships to come here?"

"Me, going to Hong Kong." Pamuk pulled at his shirt, hanging from his shoulders. "The ship I'm taking tonight'll go to Hong Kong. We'll change flags and ships and then sail right back here."

"Hong Kong is a thousand miles from here." Anna finally spoke, "That'll be a guaranteed journey of two weeks. And that's if we're not avoiding pirates and the British on the way there."

Pamuk's eyes widened, his face switching from John to Anna and back so quickly it made John's eyes water. "You can't be… You can't think you're…"

"If you're about to finish your statement with any variation of the realization that we're coming with you to Hong Kong then you're correct." John stood, grabbing Pamuk's collar to bring him along. "We're your new shipmates."

"I'll tell them the minute-"

Anna was at his side in a second and John heard a click as Pamuk froze. "If you breathe a word about who we are or, in any way, try to ruin this for us, I'll shoot you without a second thought. Do we understand one another?"

Pamuk nodded and John's nose scrunched at the sudden, powerful stench of urine. Anna glanced down and then snorted, tucking the uncocked gun back into the pocket of her trousers. "I guess you're the kind of man only powerful when they're oppressing women."

"I don't know what you're-"

"If you think I forgot what you did to Lady Mary then you're not very bright at all, are you?" Anna waited but Pamuk did not speak further. "Get yourself a new pair of trousers and get us to your ship. We've got a cargo to seize."

"Not that it'll help you." He muttered and yelped when John spun him around so fast his ass crashed onto the edge of the bed, slipping to tumble to the floor.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Pamuk raised his arms over his head but John ducked under them to grab his collar. "I didn't say anything."

"I think you're suggesting that the ship in Hong Kong isn't the only one." John shook Pamuk like a rag doll until the man nodded. "What does that mean?"

"There's another ship, from the Dutch Indies. I was hoping to sell the guns to the British in their fight against these boxers but…"

"But if you lose the first shipment you'll sell them to Green?" John dropped Pamuk and turned to Anna. "We can't take two ships."

"Then we'll take the one we can get and hope it's enough."

John went to speak but stopped himself, nodding. He stood and nudged Pamuk with his foot. "Like the lady said, get yourself a new pair of pants and trousers, get dressed, and get ready to introduce us to your crew."

Anna gave William instructions as John watched Pamuk get himself together in the corner. When William left, John kept a firm hand on Pamuk and the other on his cane. With Anna taking the lead, the trio left the brothel and hurried to the skiff waiting on the dock to take Pamuk to his boat.

Neither of them understood the Turkish instructions but given the others in the boat did not immediately attempt to fight John or Anna, they settled into the boat with Pamuk and rolled over the lapping waves of low tide out toward the ship. A ship that loomed with flapping flags and snapping sails as the winter wind chilled them all to the bone. They huddled together until they had to climb the rope ladder over the side one by one.

Anna went before Pamuk and John followed close behind him. The sailors on the deck paid them no mind and the captain only spared them a snort, as if as uninterested in them as he was in the flashily dressed Pamuk. Instead he only directed them below and called to the crew to hurry their preparations for departure. A departure that had John's hands gripping tighter at his cane.

They trailed Pamuk to the hold and he guided them to the cramped cabins. He tapped one and opened it for them to see. "It's connected to the one next to it. That one's empty."

"Are you suggesting we stay there?" Anna rounded on him, her hand in her trouser pocket and John noted, even in the low light from the weak bulbs blinking along the corridor, the blanch of Pamuk's skin. "Because if you think you can get away from us that easily-"

"I value my life, my lady, and if you come to harm on this voyage I'll have to answer for that and I'd rather not engage in an international incident."

"Just some light smuggling." John muttered, returning Pamuk's scowl. "We'll take the room on the condition your berth is blocked from the outside. You'll have to come through ours to move about the ship. It'll keep you on a leash."

"Fine." Pamuk set to his belt, snapping it loose and handed it over to John. "Lock me in then. I only want my life."

"It's yours if we get to Hong Kong safely." Anna nodded toward the cabin. "In you get. Best rest up. We've got at least two-"

"This ship's got steam turbines." Pamuk spit at her. "It'll take us a week, a fortnight at most."

John blinked, "You've got steam turbines?"

"Did you think the only one who developed them was a British man?"

Anna tugged on John's sleeve, "If the other ship-"

"In." John hustled Pamuk into his cabin and latched the door closed from the outside, twisting and knotting the belt between the handle and nearest hand hold in the tight corridor. He tugged on it for a moment before nodding Anna into their berth. She crowded in and John followed her, immediately testing the door between their cabin and Pamuk's.

"We should block it. So he can't storm through here." Anna opened a trunk in the corner, removing a length of rope and handing it over to John.

He tied it quickly in the same fashion and sat on the edge of the bed, frowning when he noticed Anna still digging in the trunk. "What?"

"It's almost…" She shook her head and urged him over to show him the contents. "It's like a collection of all those things left on a ship. The kinds of things you think you remembered but forgot."

"There are enough pieces here to assemble a wardrobe." John pulled at some of the clothes. "You'd look a bit funny but the clothes will work."

"Good." Anna sat on anther trunk, sighing. "I don't think I should go back to Hong Kong dressed as I am."

"Would they fear you'd gone native?" John closed the trunk and sat on it, watching Anna's face. "Because you could stay there."

"Excuse me."

John raised a hand. "Not because I don't think you're valuable to the cause. They trust you and they need you, that's for certain."

"Then why-"

"Because you're someone there. You're Lady Islington in Hong Kong instead of just Nurse Smith."

"I'll tell you which I prefer."

"But which will get us a British army?" Anna frowned and John continued, "Barrow owns Beijing. If anything goes wrong with Green then the British army's as invested in Shandong to put down our little resistance with no survivors. They're already fighting the Boxers and then what does Barrow do?"

"Tell them that's what we are and slaughter us all without another thought." Anna's head tapped on the bulkhead behind her. "Hong Kong's too far for aid."

"Not if you get it to come at the same time we seize the boat. Then the British and the guns arrive in time to rescue everyone."

Anna pursed her lips, as if considering the proposal for a time before shaking her head. "I see the logic in your statement and I promise to do all my title'll allow me the moment we land in Hong Kong. But I'll not abandon those people in Shandong. I can't."

John nodded, "I understand."

"Moreover," Anna took a breath, "There's too much a risk, if I stay in Hong Kong, that I miss my chance at Green." Anna's jaw tightened, "And I won't lose him. He's mine and no one'll take him from me."

"And I won't stand in your way." John sighed, "I don't know about you but I'm exhausted and-"

"First," Anna held up a hand, stopping John from moving off the trunk. "I'd like to ask something of you."

"Anything."

"I want you to help me torture Mr. Pamuk a bit."

"Anna," John began to shake his head but noticed the little smile on Anna's face. "You don't mean physically, do you?"

"No, I don't." Anna stood, removing her clothes as slowly as possible to leave John's mouth dry and his body frozen in place watching her as she removed his clothes. "We were so rude to interrupt him at the brothel earlier and I thought…"

"Why not have a bit for ourselves?"

Anna nodded, shucking the last of John's clothes to straddle his thighs as he sat on the top of the trunk. "I do hope you're not opposed to this plan."

"Every time you ask that I just want to beg that you'll cut off my good leg if I ever have the temerity to attempt a refusal."

"Who knows," Anna shrugged, "You might tire of me."

John's fingers held her chin as she shifted forward, pressing the budding damp of her folds against him. "Never."

In a moment Anna took John into her and they were not quiet about it. Part of John wondered if Anna exaggerated her volume and response but soon he could not find it in himself to keep silent either. The early temptation of an illicit torment for their undesired berth-mate evolved into a reckless rut for pleasure. They abandoned propriety together and, vaguely, John wondered what the other possible passengers might think about their noise. But he could not manage to care when Anna moved a hand between them while her lips seized his again.

Their hips bucked together, their hands scrambling for better holds, and finally crying out together and they tumbled haphazardly over the edge. All of the care and consideration of their previous forays were nothing in the moment of primal pleasure. And despite their absolutely shattered appearance, all John could do was smile and take Anna's lips in a slow kiss. Her fingers trembling on his cheek as she stroked there before breaking from him.

"Do you think we tormented him enough?"

"No." John started a smile trail of kisses under Anna's jaw, his fingers kneading into her ass and breasts simultaneously as he shifted his hips to grind inside her. Anna gasped at the motion and tried to pull away but John held her close. "I'd like to do it again, if you'd like to."

"Not like this." Anna pushed away from John's chest and he froze until she kissed him hard. "Just… I want another way."

"What way?" John watched as Anna stood, her balance swaying slightly as the ship rocked. "What do you want me to do Anna?"

She did not answer. Her knees hit the floor and John dug his fingers into the trunk under him when she almost swallowed him whole. The efforts, not unlike her diligence that morning, restored him to his former glory before she drew her lips back off him. When she licked over them, the dark dilation of her pupils almost a taunt in and of itself, had John forgetting the patterns of the trunk now etched into his skin to toss her back on the tight bunk.

The giggle that escaped her turned to a moan when he kissed over her. His lips and hands never stopped, leaving Anna a sagging mess of cries and whimpers as he worked between her legs until she wrung his fingers free of blood. John pulled back, ready to utilize the tight dimensions of the bunk as best they could, but Anna managed to turn over the side. His mind flashed onto their adventure in the bath and Anna winked over her shoulder at him.

"What's keeping you Captain?"

John did not even think before he held her steady and thrust. The rock of the boat in the rising waves fed their motions and the tight space only kept them closer together. They twisted and ground, fingers digging into skin and nails biting in gouges as they raked in time with moans and groans.

Anna rose up, changing the angle for a moment so John's lips could land on hers. Her fingers carded into his hair and threatened to tear some out as John drove harder and deeper into her with an unforgiving grip on her hips. She broke the kiss, her nails leaving stinging marks down the side of his face as she bent back over the bed to hold herself up. And John, despite the twinges of pain threatening from his leg, worked the piston of his hips to match the punishing pace Anna set from her position. They worked together until they came together.

The rock of the ship did nothing to help them get into their bunk without tripping over their own feet. Even worse when they tried not to trip over one another's feet. But they managed to lay together in the bunk, slotting together with John mostly on his side to keep his right leg up and Anna tucked into his left.

Her fingers ran easily down his chest now, giving John something to focus on instead of the tiny stings of the sweat running over his skin filling the claw marks she left over him. When her fingers found a few, Anna lifted herself up to kiss over them until John brought her back to his side. She tried to argue but John kissed away whatever words she prepared.

"It's nothing."

"It's painful."

"Someone, recently, told me that pain is temporary and the pleasure I received with these makes it all worth it."

Anna kissed him back, burrowing into his side before giving a little laugh. "I hope it was more painful for Mr. Pamuk."

"He couldn't not hear us so…"

They laughed quietly together, allowing the waves to rock them to sleep.


	16. And They Pass Themselves

John steadied himself with a hand on the dock post, the world rocking like the boat now that his sea legs threatened to take preeminence over his land legs. He took a few deep breaths and leaned heavily into his cane to aid in any forward motion. Motions that soon gave him purpose as Anna and Pamuk joined him on the dock. Anna nodded at him, her hand brushing over the pocket where John noted the shape of her pistol, and he quickly took position beside Pamuk so they could move into the crowded city calling with all the noises of inhabited locales.

As they passed a few soldiers wearing uniforms John did not recognize, he put a firm hand on Pamuk's shoulder and leaned to whisper into the man's ear over the din of the docks. "If you remember the agreement-"

"I don't need reminding." Pamuk hissed at him, pulling himself loose from John's grip. "I know my duty here."

"Good, then we'll not waste any time." John went to move them forward when someone shouted his name.

"John! John Bates!" He turned, pivoting with the cane at the ready as a weapon, when an auburn-headed man almost ploughed into him, risking both of them falling off the dock and into the bay.

When he managed to loose himself from the other man's grip, John gawked at the sight before him. "Branson? Tom Branson?"

"Who else did you think it'd be?" Branson slapped his shoulder. "I though you dead and buried up in Beijing."

"Nearly was." John took a deep breath, "There's too much to that story."

Branson nodded at John's leg, "I can see that." His hand clapped hard enough at John's shoulder to force him to lean into his cane to maintain his balance. "How did you get here?"

"My newest friend." John pointed to Pamuk and noted Branson's curled lip. "It's an acquaintance of necessity."

"I'd have to assume so since he's rubbish." Branson pulled on John's arm, hissing at him. "Where'd you find yourself a Turkish Ambassador?"

"Same place I found myself a nurse and a problem that needs solving." John side stepped to allow Branson a view of Anna. "Anna Smith, this is my former partner, Tom Branson."

"Former?" Branson held up a hand, "Are we not partners any longer?"

"I've been in Shandong for nearly nine months." John shrugged, "I figured you got away and established yourself somewhere and-"

"You're half right." Branson eyed Pamuk again before motioning the three of them to follow him. "Come on, there are better places for conversations like this."

They trailed Branson through the tight turns of the streets and across the more open avenues while dodging vehicles and the crams of people that made even the thought of moving in a straight line or with any fluidity exhausting. Branson's feet knew the way almost as if unconsciously dancing over the road, his arms up to elbow and shove where he needed to clear a path. Eventually the people moved like water around a rock and their awkward quartet managed to make their way to a back street behind imposing rows of houses that kept the street far from their doors and gardens with high walls and guards they brought from the Sikh provinces of northern India to serve as more imposing deterrents than local security.

Branson's knuckles knocked on a back gate and it opened to reveal a young man with a swath of brown hair that hinted at curls under the frizz of humidity. His grin brightened at the sight of Branson and he almost flung the door wide except when he caught sight of the other three. Then his teeth bit hard into his lip and he clung to the door as if it was both shield and drawbridge.

"Mr. Branson, I don't know if I can-"

"The General'll want to see him." Branson pointed to John. "He's in a spot of trouble but he's a man of the uniform."

"He's not wearing one."

"There are reasons for that. They're many and they're for the General's ears only." Branson held up both his hands, as if surrendering to the younger man. "Andrew, I swear on my life that if they're tossed out on their ears I'll prostrate myself in front of the General for mercy. You'll be naught but a shadow in the telling of the hows and the whys and the wherefores."

Andrew shuffled and then pulled the door wide, backing up as if still hoping it would protect him from the threat of foreign invasion. Branson stepped over the lip of the door and Anna followed him, John keeping a tight grip on Pamuk to move him into the back garden before the steel door closed with a vibrating clang that left it shaking while Andrew did up the bolts.

"Follow me." He pulled at his livery, leading them over the carefully cultivated garden done in the most Western style of Eastern homage John could remember seeing. Rocks and twisting paths reflected the most Daoist of methodologies but the placement was all wrong to be anything but a vague copy for appearances sake.

He gave a little snort, noting Anna's slight nod of recognition at the naïve endeavor. Branson and Pamuk gave no sign as having any idea a silent conversation passed under their noses and persisted in keeping to Andrew's steps before he opened the French doors to lead them into the house. He stepped to the side, as if welcoming expected guests and not three travel-worn individuals accompanied by, as John finally recognized the uniform, the driver for the house.

"Do you work for this family?" John whispered to him as they crossed through the marble tiled floor of the back patio toward the house's interior corridors. "Are you their driver?"

"I was lucky to get the job." Branson shrugged, "Unlike yourself, remember, I was dishonorably discharged. It's hard to get a license as a private detective in a city swarming with former soldiers when they've got better references and post-service standing than you."

"So you're a driver?"

"I was always pretty good at it." Branson shrugged, "And , as I said, I was lucky to get the job at all. Another week without one and I would've sold my own hand to get back to Ireland instead."

"We are so very glad he didn't. Would've been a shame to sacrifice one of the best driver's we've-" A woman with dark hair and severe cheekbones entered the corridor, descending just ahead of a blonde man, and stopped in the hall.

John frowned, noting the woman's open-mouthed gape at Anna. Anna, for her part, only shuffled in place and dry-scrubbed her hands. The tableau only grew worse when the blonde man noticed Pamuk and made as if to attack the man with his fists so John had to step in the way to stop him while Pamuk cowered behind John's bulk in the tight confines of the corridor.

"How dare you come back to this house after you-"

"Sir," John grabbed the man's hands, wrestling him away without trying to knock the other man over. "I'll beg your indulgence and not injure this man."

"Do you know what he's done? Who he is?" The man wrested himself from John's grip, breathing hard but pulling at his suit coat and pressing a trembling hand to the side of his head to settle any hair his outburst had upset.

"Perhaps a little better than you and yet not at all." John admitted, curling his fingers into the Pamuk's collar to keep him upright. "But, unfortunately for you, I need him in one piece or the whole reason I came to Hong Kong is for naught."

"Anna, who are these people?" The woman stepped forward, almost pushing the others out of her way to put her hands on Anna's shoulders. "Where have you been? What… What have you been doing? We all worried you were dead."

"I…" Anna swallowed and then stopped as another man joined the crowding in the hallway.

"Mary, what the Devil's going on here? Who-" The man's eyes widened and John snapped himself to a salute as if on instinct. "Bates? Is that really you? John Bates after all this time?"

He took his own turn at shoving all those in his wake aside to snatch John's hand from his forehead to pump enthusiastically in a firm handshake. "I've heard nothing of you since India. Well, there were some nasty rumors from Beijing but I didn't believe a word of them. Do you hear me, not a word. They weren't true. Couldn't be and I didn't believe them."

"General, sir" John finally extracted his hand, flexing his fingers in an effort to restore blood flow, "I think this is a longer conversation that your hallway and we've all got a bit of explaining to do. Might we take this-"

"The library." Mary and the General spoke at the same time. They looked at one another a moment before shaking their heads to survey the cast of characters before them. "We'll have more seats."

"And a high window to kick him out of, should the opportunity present itself." The blonde man snipped at Pamuk, who only cowered a moment but John's side before tripping forward when John pushed him to follow the others up the stairs.

They ascended two flights, passing a formal and informal sitting room, a study, and a water closet before landing on the floor with a library and small ballroom. The opulence of both rooms had John forcing his jaw closed in an effort not to gawk but the glitter of crystal, the beckoning siren's call of fine china, and the polished surfaces that reflected his haggard image back at him. It all had him wishing his jaw could drop to the floor and just drag along behind him as it would express the sensation of walking through another world better than his words could ever hope to explain.

The rather motely crew of them reached the library and Mary immediately set herself to pulling the cord next to the fireplace. "For tea, I think we'll need it."

"Or something stronger." Branson tried to joke but the scowls of Mary, the blonde man, and the General silenced him to a corner. "Apologies, just trying to ease some tension."

"I'm sure the tensions will ease once we all have a chance to explain ourselves." Mary pointed to a sofa nearest John and Anna before taking an opposite one to sandwich herself between the blonde man and the General. "There must be an incredible tale to be told here."

"It isn't the swashbuckling adventure you imagine." Anna spoke for the first time, her fingers still tugging and pulling as she took John's right side so he could keep his good leg close to Pamuk, squashed as the man was between John and the arm of the sofa. "We've been through the wringer."

"Then the beginning would be the best place to start." Mary's eyes never left Anna. "I haven't seen you in three years Anna. Almost four. It would've been four if Chinese New Year had passed again."

"I know." Anna took a deep breath and John snuck his hand between hers. Partly to stop her fingers risking pulling one of her digits loose by accident and partially to give her comfort. Her fingers immediately wrapped around him and squeezed before she started speaking again. "You know I wanted to work as a nurse so I went north, to work in Beijing."

"I thought it was ridiculous when you could've worked in the hospital here, with Sybil." Mary shook her head, folding her arms over her chest. John thought he caught the hint of a smile cross over Branson's features at the mention of the name 'Sybil' but he said nothing. "It would've been safer."

"My pride's been shattered enough to not need a lecture where you take the opportunity that say 'I told you so', if you don't mind." Anna's tone brooked no argument and Mary snapped her mouth shut. "I ran afoul of a corrupt Lieutenant in Beijing who had me shipped to a camp where I became the nurse to hundreds of enslaved locals mining gold from the mountains in Shandong province."

No one said a word, all possible explanations for Anna's absence answered more brutally than they imagined. "I couldn't leave until quite recently when Mr. Bates and I faked our deaths to escape."

"Faked your deaths?" The General blinked, turning to John. "Bates, what's this all about?"

"The same Lieutenant that kidnapped Ms. Smith and forced her to-"

"Her name is Lady Anna, sir, as she if the Lady Islington, Duchess of Starling and Oldham." Mary cut off John's explanation, her tone as sharp as her cheekbones. "Do her the kindness of showing her the respect befitting her rank."

"Mary that's enough." Anna pointed at the General. "I don't have to call him Lord Grantham and I don't call you Lady Mary."

"He's-"

"He's the man who saved my life and brought me here. If anyone deserves respect it's him." Anna snapped at Mary, her tone rising. "If you're going to be particular about the details of how he addresses then I'll tell you it's far too late for propriety between the two of us."

Anna settled back into the sofa, crossing one leg over the other, and did not seem to notice the blush of red on most of the faces in the room… John's the deepest of them all. He forced his expression to the floor as the heat stung his cheeks, and finally took a deep breath to continue. Risking raising his head, John directed his continuing tale to the General.

"The Lieutenant, Lieutenant Barrow, has worked in secret with the man who works the mine. He's taking a cut of the profits and provides labor by raiding the garrison's stocks and the streets of Beijing for the vagrants and orphans he believed no one would miss."

"Is he not a Captain now?" The General frowned, "Because I was told, although I do not believe it, that you killed his commanding officer by shooting him in the back."

John shook his head, "Barrow's promotion to Captain is ill gotten. I was trying to escape custody of the British Army when Colonel Carlisle conscripted me back into service to try and quell the actions of warlords in Shandong."

"And you tried to escape?"

John nodded, "I could never serve again sir. Not after India."

There was silence a moment, Mary and the man next to her looking to the General for details but he provided none. Instead he held John's gaze. "What then?"

"Barrow killed Colonel Carlisle and took me to the mine where Ms. Smith was held. He left me there because killing me would fail to sell his story of my alleged indiscretions. Ms. Smith healed the injuries Barrow caused me and Green made me foreman of the mine so-"

"Green?" The General frowned, "Who is Green?"

"He's the man who works the mine. He's been smuggling the gold the people mine for him." Anna pointed at Pamuk, "And this acquaintance of Barrow's was the means by which Green hoped to destroy all evidence of his activities."

"How?" The blonde man finally asked, his tone edged and aimed only for Pamuk. "What other depraved things were you doing?"

Pamuk almost did not respond, holding the man's glare, but yelped when John grabbed the spot just behind his knee. Kicking and screeching for reprieve, Pamuk babbled until John removed his fingers. "I'm bringing shipments to Green in Shandong. He's paying me well for them."

"What are they?"

"Matthew this really isn't-" Mary tried to cut in but Matthew held up a hand to stop her speaking.

"What are they, Mr. Pamuk?"

"Guns." Anna supplied and John noted the lack of color in the three faces before him, even Branson's in the corner. "Mr. Pamuk's work with Barrow has allowed him the use of Turkish ships to take a promised shipment of guns from Hong Kong to Qingdao so Green can use the automated weaponry to destroy the mine and any proof that he ever had an operation there."

"Is this true?" The General was on his feet in a moment, upsetting the butler entering the room with tea. "Are you helping a man commit genocide?"

"One would have to believe he's doing the wrong thing." Pamuk finally spoke, rising to hold the Genera's glare. "It's a transaction, like buying shoes or any other commodity. He paid me for a service, which I intend to provide, and that's the end of it. It's just business."

"Except that we're planning on taking that shipment from him." John yanked Pamuk back to his seat, his fingers digging into the other man's wrist. "We're taking the guns to those who've escaped the mines and training them to free the others."

"Sir," Matthew broke John's concentration on the General. "With the Boxers rebelling all over Beijing, surely you're just inviting trouble."

"Those people will all be dead before Chinese New Year and then the mine and all evidence of wrong doing will be buried." Anna's voice broke the moment. "We're going to do something about that."

"Anna, it's a noble goal but-"

"But nothing, Mary. Those people are my family."

"We were your family and you scarpered off to Beijing rather than stay here with us and try to build a life here."

Anna closed her eyes, shaking her head slowly, "You never did understand."

"Why you'd leave everything you had to gain here to scum it with the impoverished a thousand miles away? No, I never did understand that." Mary folded her arms over her chest, "What are they to you, anyway?"

"They're people who needed me and they depend on me." Anna used a finger to gesture between John and herself. "They need us."

Mary turned to John, the conflict between her disdain for what he might represent and the possibility of a lifeline to what she must have considered Anna's insanity playing out plaining on her face. "Haven't you attempt to convince her that she could do more here if she stayed? You know she's a Duchess, after all."

"I know what Anna is and while I respect her position and the powder she wields very much," John eyed Anna a moment, treading the fine line drawn between the two women in the invisible sand on the floor. "I know that she'll never stay. For as much as I thought she might be the one to bring the Army…"

John gave a little laugh, nodding to Branson and then the General. "The Army's already here and there's nothing more she could do here that wouldn't drive her more mad than boarding that ship in the harbor and sailing right back to Qingdao. Whether you believe or not, she's at her best when she's in the thick of it and anywhere else will be a waste of her efforts and our time trying to convince her otherwise because it won't work."

The room stayed silent a moment before Mary threw her hands in the air and followed them. "Fine. Then I guess we're all going to try and commit a bit of treason overthrowing the British Army."

"Not quite, dear." The General put a hand on her arm, urging her back to her seat so Matthew could attempt to hold her in place. "Histrionics aside, it will take some doing to convince my superiors to allow me to take any of the garrison here to Beijing. Especially with, as Matthew pointed out, the Boxers making trouble for us."

"For the moment, sir, we just need to secure the mine and that comes through getting our hands on both shipments of the automatic weapons." John looked at Pamuk, "He's unwillingly agreed to get us that ship. We'll sail it back to Qingdao and arm the members of our… dissident group to take back the mine and free the captives there."

"What about the crew?" Branson cut in, finally pulling all the attention in the room his way. "He's one man and there's at least fifty on a ship."

"He got us here." John frowned, trying to reason it but Branson shook his head. "What? Why's he not enough?"

"Because he's one man. Getting to Hong Kong got him away from whatever trouble's brewing up in the Shandong province and back where he feels safe." Branson pointed at Pamuk, "I'll bet more than I make in a year he'd have them shoot you the moment you tried to take the ship when it docked in harbor."

John turned to Pamuk, watching the man squirm slightly in his seat as he spoke. "Be that as it may, we're a bit lacking in terms of our ability to put a crew on a ship. Also, we'd have to get rid of the original crew and we've not got the people to do that either."

Branson shrugged, "I might have an answer to that particular problem."

The General groaned, holding up a hand. "If there is anything seedy about what you're about to suggest-"

"There are more than enough Navy men looking for something to keep them occupied." Branson reasoned, "A lot of them will be at the party tonight. It'll be rife recruiting grounds for those we can trust far more to sail that ship to Shandong."

"I wasn't aware anyone invited you." Mary pursed her lips, "Unless…"

The General looked between Mary and Branson before his face purpled. Mary put a hand on his arm, keeping him in his seat. "Now's not the time for that."

"He's-"

"I'm sure he's been nothing but the gentleman he knows how to be and Sybil'll be fine in his company." Mary tightened her hand on the General's arm, her gaze fixed on Branson. "And if he helps Anna get her crew then we don't have to worry about taking any of your soldiers to help them."

The General's shoulders relaxed slightly and he removed Mary's hand from his arm. His finger leveled at Branson. "If you, in any way, harm Sybil, I'll not stop at hunting you down and-"

"He understands." Matthew interrupted, standing from the sofa and helping Mary join him. "And if we're going to invite Lady Anna, her escort, and that particular bit of rubbish on the end of the sofa to join us, we'll need to get them changed. And washed."

"Branson might also want to consider getting himself a better suit for the evening. A driving uniform is not appropriate for an evening of dancing." Mary looked him over, "Even if Sybil doesn't mind it."

Branson went to respond but John held up a hand. "I think we should follow the advice of Lady Mary and get ourselves in a position to attend this evening's festivities so we can find this crew."

The room held still for a moment before everyone moved. The General immediately vanished into the depths of the house while Branson pointed to Pamuk. "I'll take him. I've got a few friends who'll watch him until we need him for the party. Get him some tails and hopefully make him smell less like fish."

Pamuk went to argue but Branson shuffled him away. Mary put her hand on Anna's arm, guiding her toward the stairs, as John turned right into the hold of Matthew. "I think I could help you get into something a little less native. They won't appreciate it at the party."

John looked at Anna, "Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll be fine." Anna reached out, holding his hand for a second, and then following Mary. "I'm not going to get locked in a closet, if that's what worries you."

"I've tried it before, in the past." Mary shrugged, "I'll not attempt the same thing twice. I'm convinced one should only perform a stunt when there's a chance of success and since Anna's rather… intelligent, there's no real way to anticipate success because she'll ruin it."

John smiled, "I'm sure she would."

Anna winked at him, leaving the room with Mary while John finally followed Matthew. They took a trip first to a washroom where Matthew waited on the other side of the door as John scrubbed what he estimated was months worth of grime from his skin until his skin rubbed pink and raw. When he finally got a good luck at himself in the full-length mirror and had to hold to the counter to stop himself from falling over.

His skin sagged in places where his weight no longer held it firm and it grayed from malnourishment. Old bruises and injuries colored it further to leave him a patchwork of false paint and haunting memories. John's fingers traced over them until he finally shook himself from his reverie over the body he no longer recognized. The body that fit into the old tails the General lent him to wear for the evening. John tightened his tie in the mirror, noting the slight tremor to his fingers, and forced a deep breath before emerging from the water closet.

There his jaw dropped. Anna stood before him, swathed in midnight blue with her hair piled and twisted high on her head, and they just stared at one another. John swallowed hard and tried to even his breathing but before either he or Anna could speak, Mary and Matthew joined them.

"Branson's got Pamuk in the motor already, so we'd best join them before Branson's tempted to mangle the man like Matthew wants to." Mary wove her hand through Matthew's arm. "And we've got those men to recruit for your suicide mission so best not allow them to get too drunk before they can help you."

John offered his arm to Anna, "May I?"

"Of course." Anna put her hand in the crook of John's elbow. "I like how you look in white tie, by the way."

"If you'd ever seen me in my dress uniform for functions like these you might think that white tie is far inferior."

"Then perhaps, when your status as a member of the British Army is no longer in question and your honor no longer stained," Anna reached over to straightened John's tie. "I'll get to see that."

"Wouldn't that be something."

They all fit into the motor, Anna taking the rear with Matthew and Mary while John helped hem Pamuk in with Branson. The man fit between them as uncomfortably as he did in the suit that seemed both too tight and too loose at the same time. Branson only shrugged at John's raised eyebrow.

"It was all they could find on short notice."

"And where's your escort for the evening?" John held to the side of the motor as it chugged and moved forward. "Given there's no room for her to be hiding on the running board I'll assume you're meeting her."

"She and the General are coming in the other car."

"You don't sound overly excited about that."

"The General wasn't overly excited to hear we had anything going between us" Branson scowled at Mary through the mirror looking back to give Branson a view through the window at the back. "Seemed to think I've somehow stained his daughter's virtue by even speaking to her."

Mary only rolled her eyes as they bounced over the cobbled streets toward the evening's excitement. The building, already glittering with advertisements and window dressings for the options available inside, beckoned to them as the group exited the car to climb the stairs with all the other shiny appendages of the night to the third floor of the large shopping center for the ballroom. John's hand remained clutched around Pamuk's arm, just above the elbow where his fingers could dig into the man's bone cap there. Matthew looked almost longingly for the chance to keep Pamuk in check himself but Mary quickly swept them away to greet friends and acquaintances in equally glitzy attendance.

"I never thought I'd have to bear one of these again." Anna whispered next to John, moving them to a side table, out of the way. "I never liked them."

"They were my ex-wife's favorite part of my commission." John shook his head, "She met Colonel Carlisle at one of these. He was a Major then and we were still in India but they began their affair there."

"John-" Anna squeezed at his arm but John could only laugh.

"I wonder what happened to her after Carlisle died. If she believed that I killed him. How she's survived on her own."

Anna did not respond and they spent most of the night avoiding being seen, despite the efforts they both went to so they might appear to fit into the room. But with John keeping a hold on Pamuk and Anna's eyes following Branson about the room as he spoke in low tones and whispers with a number of the men in the room, they had no time for vapid conversation. It was what had them up and out of their chairs at Branson's motions to get them down a back set of stairs to an alley behind the shopping center.

"So?" John asked, loosening his hold on Pamuk to try and restore his hand's grip and get the blood flow regulated there again. "What did you find?"

"Enough people to help crew your ship and news that it's already in port." Branson tilted his head toward Pamuk. "He's been about as open with you as an uncooked oyster."

"Not a surprise." John admitted and reached for Pamuk again.

But a sharp pain cut across his cheek and another solid thwack to his right knee had him on the ground. John hit hard, knocking the air from his body as he watched Branson try to step in an remove the broom from Pamuk's hands. It proved vain as Branson took the head of the broom to the temple and it knocked him back into the wall.

The broom hit the pavement and the quick click of Pamuk's shoes sounded in echoing taunts to John's ears. A crack echoed over the noise and a solid thump of a body hitting the ground spurred the adrenaline in John's body enough for him to roll over and stagger to his feet. His right leg dragged slightly behind him as he noted the body of Pamuk lying, face-down, in the street.

"He might've gotten away."

John turned, noting Anna's quivering hand still holding to her gun. She swallowed hard as Branson joined them, his palm pressed to his head where a small gash leaked blood down the side of his face. Anna blinked, as if the blood spurred some instinctual reaction and John carefully extricated the gun from her grip so she could address Branson's wound.

Branson met John's eyes and pointed toward Pamuk, mouthing around Anna's arm to John, 'What about him?'

In a split second, John tucked the gun into his pocket and dragged Anna from Branson. "You go back into the party and tell them all about some ruffians that caught you smoking out here. Tell anyone who cares that they were dealing with a man and say you heard about something illegal. A shipment of guns, from the Dutch Indies if you'd be that helpful."

Branson nodded, "Get the British to stop it and mark him as a dead smuggler just caught in his actions with the wrong people."

John nodded, still holding Anna. "We'll get to the ship. I'll assume Pamuk's identity and insist they speak English, to avoid suspicion for the time being before sending them ashore."

"My crew'll get there before the tide leaves in the morning." Branson stood, holding a handkerchief to his head. "And I'll have them get you some clothes too. You'll need them."

"These aren't exactly travel togs, are they?" John smiled and took the slip of paper Branson palmed to him. "The dock number?"

"It's what you'll need." Branson shook John's hand. "I hope it's not nine months before I see you again."

"Bring that nurse of yours with General Crawley's army when he finally gets approval to come north and you'll find me waiting for you."

"I hope so." Branson released John's hand and jerked his head. "Now get out of here before that shot drew anyone to contradict my story."

John took Anna's hand, "Come on. We've got to get back to Shandong."


	17. Without Wondering

John left the jacket hanging from the back of the chair and sat heavily on it as Anna continued pacing, tugging at her fingers. "Anna?"

"I didn't think it'd be like that." Anna pulled hard at a finger and John cringed when she popped the joint but did not seem to notice. "I… I didn't expect it like that."

He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but closed it again to watch Anna continue pacing. She walked the same line, her steps never varying as she tracked her progress through her words. Constant repetitions of expectations and intention before John finally stood and stepped in her path. She blinked at him, as if not remembering he was there, and gasped slightly when John took her hands in his.

"It's never what you think."

"I've never…" Anna swallowed, "I've never killed anyone. The people at the camp were… They were different. Testing the formula to perfect it to save others, that was different. But… He was a bad man and…"

"You don't need to do that."

"What?"

"You don't need to justify the death." John held Anna's gaze, "No matter what he was, it's still hard. I understand and you don't have to rationalize it because it'll never make sense. Killing never makes sense. It's primal and against everything in us except for survival. That's all you need to know."

"But I…" Anna glanced at her hands, as if they were dripping in blood or some other physical indicator of her actions. "I killed someone."

"In self-defense."

"He was running away. I shot him in the back."

"And imagine what he might've done had he escaped. Imagine the damage he could've caused to our work, _your_ work in Shandong if he had. Imagine if he got on this boat and his crew were here to sail it north." John shook his head, "You'll spend the rest of your life debating what you did. It'll plink back and forth at the back of your mind in any quiet moment you have as a measure of your actions. Like scales telling you if your heart is weightier than a feather."

John took a breath, "And it won't matter. No matter what you believe you could've done differently or how you'll justify it to yourself, you'll never stop seeing his face or the last moments of his life and you'll never give him back the life you took. He's dead and that's the end of it."

Anna blinked at him, "Why are you saying these things?"

"Because I'll not coddle you. I've killed people. I've watched my friends die beside me and taken friends from the men beside them. I know what it's like to live in a shadow with ten thousand ghosts." John paused, "I know what it is to bear the weight of what you've done and never believe you can put it down. I know how that weighs on a soul."

Her fingers wrapped around his. "I never knew that this is how you felt."

"I never wanted you to feel this." John sighed, pressing his forehead to hers before pulling Anna into his embrace as her body shook through the nerves it finally acknowledged as her shock evolved to the next stage. "Whatever you think you did, Anna, you saved us. And because you saved us, we can save them."

Anna nodded against his shirt, wrinkling and ruffling it but John only maneuvered them to take over the large cabin bed. They shuffled and rumpled the blankets to put their backs against the wall as they clung to one another. Eventually the shudders and judders of her body stopped and Anna repositioned herself to rest her head on John's shoulder.

"How will we help them if they don't even know we're coming?"

"What?" John frowned and they moved to look at one another. "What are you talking about?"

"We've no way to warn William or the others we're coming. We'll have to dock this ship with its temporary sailors and find our people to come and haul the guns away. By then it might be too late."

"Then you'll be pleased to know that I thought just a step ahead in this." John gave a little shrug to Anna's narrowed eyes. "I thought it the least I could do to try and help you stage your rebellion."

"What did you do?"

"Branson's sending a telegram to Qingdao. William's waiting there and he'll get the message. He'll know the approximate time the ship should come in, its name, and the appearance. That way we'll not waste any time trying to find our way to them and then back to the ship."

Anna put her hand to John's cheek, her fingers gently grazing in time with the run of her thumb along the bone before following the prickles of his shadow. "You, John Bates, are an amazing man."

"No, I'm just an ordinary man trying his extraordinary best to impress a woman he loves rather dearly." John covered Anna's hand on his cheek. "What did two people as broken as we are do to deserve what we have?"

"I don't think we did anything." Anna interlaced their fingers to bring their hands between them. "I think we're just finding ways to be whole together."

John gave a little smile, that took a bit of a devious note when he dragged his fingers across the interior of Anna's exposed wrist. "I never had the chance to tell you, but you looked beautiful tonight."

"I thought you were rather dashing yourself." Anna nodded toward the jacket on the back of the chair that rocked with them as the tide rose to bring the ship higher. "But I think I told you I liked you in white tie."

"You did mention it." John's fingers dared higher up Anna's arm, gracing near her elbow before daring under the diaphanous fabric fluttering open from her shoulders in a Grecian style. "I, on the other hand, couldn't manage to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth at the sight of you."

"They say that the mark of a great woman is her ability to stop him in his tracks with a single look."

"His look or hers?" John's fingers finally reached her shoulder and eased the strap of the dress down. "Because you could stop me in my tracks without even deigning to look my way."

"Rather amazing considering that I wasn't wearing anything nearly this gorgeous when I first saw you."

"I wasn't exactly at my best then either."

"Speaking of," Anna's hand lighted on his knee. "Are you alright?"

"I'm with you," John leaned forward, his fingers finding the laces at the back of the dress to ease it open so the white of Anna's corset peeked at him. "How could I be anything but wonderful?"

"Pain isn't just in the mind, John." Anna's fingers tightened in his skin and John flinched, losing his concentration to leave the bodice of Anna's dress slipping down to catch in the crooks of her elbows. "If you're injured them that takes priority over anything else."

"When you're digging your nails in like that of course it'll hurt." John shifted her grip and held her hands so she could not reach for his knee again. "It'll bruise or swell or what it will. We're not in any danger of it breaking in half."

"John-"

He put a finger over her lips, "If you'd like, we'll seduce one another slowly so you don't have to worry about me injuring myself."

Anna pursed her lips a moment before slipping both hands free of John's grip. They went to his shoulders and pushed him back against the wall with a thump solid enough John was sure the crew heard it. "As a nurse, I'll have to insist that you let me do all the work."

"How can I seduce you if you're not going to allow my participation?"

She only smiled at him, "That's where you'll have to be inventive. I'm sure you could manage that, couldn't you Captain?"

"I'm an imaginative fellow."

"I do hope so." Anna leaned over him, her legs shifting her dress so the satiny material rustled and flowed between them as she straddled him. "Now, please try your best to distract me."

"Is that a challenge?" The authority in John's voice faltered as Anna's lips grazed over the skin of his neck, trailing toward his ear and then back to his collar as she loosened it and his tie in a single motion.

"Most definitely." She purred into his neck, holding herself still as the tip of her tongue traced his Adam's apple. "But I'll accept your surrender at any time."

John groaned as Anna used her knees to press into the bed and bring herself even closer to him so their chests pressed together. The tempting hint of heat from between her legs rested just where John stirred to rise to the invitation and he rolled his hips to seat Anna more fully on him. A thrilling hum vibrated over his throat in time with the dot of Anna's kisses back to his ear.

"You're not trying very hard." Her teeth nipped at his lobe, digging into his skin to give him a shiver. "Are you interested?"

John's hands immediately gripped at Anna's waist and ground into her. Anna's breath hitched, blowing hot over his neck, and John growled in her ear. "I'm sure you can tell how hard I'm trying and how interested I am."

"I stand corrected." Anna rolled her hips and John's fingers tightened in her dress, now bunching slightly over his hands. "I'll continue, shall I?"

"Don't allow me to interrupt you."

"I thought I was supposed to distract you."

"That's different from interrupting me," Anna faced him, her fingers gently prying the buttons of his shirt loose. "Distract all you wish but do not interrupt."

"I'll walk that fine line."

"Good." Anna brought her lips closer to his, their eyes locking on one another. "Shall I continue?"

"Yes." John's fingers flexed against her, tugging the bodice of her dress further to expose her corset. "Please do."

Their lips met, Anna pulling slowly to urge John closer to her as her arms slid free from the sleeves of her dress to leave the top of it bunched and rumpled between them as they tried to crawl into one another's skin. John's hands escaped from the folds of the material, running over the bones of the corset to trace and follow the lines of the seams until he reached the ties at the back. Tugging them loose one at a time, twisting and knotting around his fingers, John finally loosened the back to leave it opening like a clamshell around Anna.

She pushed back from his lips, her palms forcing his shoulders back into the wall to counter her motion. John could only stare as Anna slid out of her corset to drop it to the side and leave the outline of her body through her almost invisible chemise. He swallowed, trying to bring any moisture to his throat as Anna crossed her arms over her chest to tug her chemise loose and leave her torso bare before him. Her hands covered his and pulled them back to her waist.

His thumbs brushed over her skin, his palms sliding higher to follow the gentle curve of her torso to caress the edge of her breast. Anna shivered, her eyes settling on him as John's hands ran from her sides to her breasts, and sighed when John squeezed gently. Her knees tightened on his to move herself closer to him and pressed John's hands harder to her chest. Clenching his fingers to knead further into her skin, John dipped his head forward to bring his kisses to her skin.

Anna's fingers threaded into his hair, tugging when John's tongue dipped down to replace the work of his hands. They smoothed down to her waist, digging his fingers into her hips when she arched her back to push her breasts into his mouth, and left bruises as his teeth nipped into her skin. His tongue rounded her nipple before moving to her other breast and shifted back and forth until Anna's fingers dug divots into his scalp.

John raised his hand at her urging and tipped forward into her as Anna contorted over his shoulder to free his hands from his shirt cuffs. His shirt bunched into a ball and joined her corset on the floor. It only took a second for them to reset themselves so Anna's hands could cover his chest in sweeping motions before bringing their lips back together. John took the cue to bring his hands back to Anna's breasts before placing one on her ass to bring her closer to him so their hips could roll and thrust together.

They held to one another, breaking their kisses to try and tug and fumble with the clothes stopping one another until they grumbled in frustration together. Moving the material and pieces out of the way they needed, John's fingers finally managed to ease inside Anna's knickers as one of her hands finally closed over him. Their breath stopped, John noting the dilation of Anna's pupils as her hand clenched in response to the run of his fingers between her folds. The tighten of her hand over him only pressed his fingers further and deeper until they could no longer breathe. Their chests pressed together as they struggled to fill their lungs in response to the unconscious motions of their bodies until Anna's free hand wrapped around his wrist and moved his hand from her.

He blinked at her, his mouth opening to argue back, but Anna's knees slid closer as she lifted up to sheath him in the next second. They paused, their sharp exhalations filling their ears, and maneuvered almost tentatively together until Anna's legs widened enough to take John deeper. His fingers echoed the curl of hers into his shoulder and held them still as their bodies settled. The moment their eyes met, however, it was as if they gave permission to unleash the passion so fierce and abrupt just moments before.

Given the angle of the bed, the rock of the ship, and their positions relative to the first two, John and Anna struggled to gain the rhythm and motion they wanted. They struggled and moved to try and counter the sway of the boat or press forward into the wall or back toward the edge of the bed until Anna only huffed in frustration and went to draw away from John. In a flash, his hands holding at her ass and the back of her neck to avoid knocking her head on any possible obstruction in their path, John flipped them sideways to land on the bed.

The swift exhale from Anna and John's fumble to ensure he did not place undue pressure on his knee gave them another moment of pause. But in their new position and with the gained leverage of their readjustment, John and Anna found their rhythm. Muted and stunted echoes of their mutual groans and sighs guided their motions as fingers and hands and legs and bodies contorted and bent to try and relieve the desire in themselves as well as meeting the unspoken but sensed needs in the other. Their sinuous intertwining leaving them tangled and knotted together like two ropes on a confused deck.

John moved a hand to Anna's thigh, the other still holding firmly at her ass, and lifted it higher and angled her out to drive deeper. His hips pressed hers into the bed and Anna lifted them to meet the thrusts so she moaned from the back of her throat in a guttural sensuality that left John at his wit's end. All it took for him to lose his sanity was the cling of her vaginal walls around him as she stuttered out her finish and egged his from him.

Their bodies shuddered and eked out the final dregs of their climaxes to leave them in a muddled heap, half of their clothes still hanging and runched around them like the victims of pleasure. John turned his head from its position on Anna's shoulder, fallen there somewhere in the confused rush of thrusts and moans, and kissed her neck. Her fingers trailed over his bare back in time with the slowing rise and fall of her chest against him so her breasts did not press as hard against his chest as she slowly recovered her senses.

Pushing himself up enough to take some of his weight from her, John rolled to his left side to keep his right leg slightly elevated. It also allowed him an unfettered view of Anna's face as the flush crept away in time with the cooling of their bodies. Her hair, once a majestic display of skill and talent, now scattered and spread over the stuffed mattress under them. John's fingers reached over, taking advantage of Anna's prone state, and tugged the remaining pins and ties loose to leave her hair a golden halo about her head.

"You are to be commended Captain." Anna turned toward him, her eyes fluttering as John's fingers continued threading through her hair. "You distracted me rather thoroughly."

"I take my duties very seriously."

"I can tell." Anna's fingers rose enough to gently trace an invisible line to connect the bruises marking his chest. "You've gotten so thin. I don't know how I didn't notice but…"

John's hand covered hers. "We all wear our scars differently."

Anna nodded, her focus still on his chest as her fingers delicately followed the evidence of wear and tear on his skin. "Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you never left Hong Kong?"

"Worse." Anna frowned, looking up at him as John nodded. "I wouldn't have met you. And, I believe, I already told you that I don't regret it."

"I don't either." Anna gave a small smile before kissing just above his heart. "I only regret that you had to endure so much."

"I wouldn't be who I am without these." John nodded his head toward his bruises and followed Anna's trek over them. "They made me someone else. Someone I wouldn't recognize if my old self met him."

"I'm not sure the me that once thought parties and balls the height of fashion would look twice at the person I am now either." Anna flattened her hand against John's chest to push herself to the edge of the bed with a rock of the ship. Her feet swung over the side and she stood to shimmy her hips and escape the remainder of her clothing, completely oblivious to John staring at her. "Or if I would even think twice about the woman I was then if I met her on the street."

She glanced over her shoulder, stopping when she saw John's face. "What?"

"You're beautiful." Anna's forehead creased as she looked over herself. Before she could argue John was on his feet, wrapping his arms around her and pivoting to position them so her back was to his chest and they looked in the mirror together. It was a simply thing, nailed to the wall above a wash basin by the door, but it was enough from their distance to give them both a three-quarter view of their bodies.

John nodded toward the image, one of his hands holding at Anna's opposite hip as his arm crossed over her body to keep her in place while his other hand gently gripped Anna's chin to keep her looking at them in the mirror. "You're a goddess and I've thought so, whether consciously or not, since the first moment I opened my eyes and you were there."

He went to move but Anna gripped his arm with one hand, her fingers digging into his wrist, while the other shoved at his remaining clothes. Keeping their positions as much as possible, they managed to shed the few obstructions between them until they stood skin to skin. Their eyes found one another in the mirror and John searched for the smallest of signals and triggers as his hands moved from their positions.

Her fingers moved from his wrist, freeing him to smooth his calloused hands over her skin. Each place she shivered or shuddered he followed until Anna sighed. Every little noise she tried to keep in her throat found a matching caress that left her skin pimpling as her nipples pebbled under his fingers. And his lips on her shoulders, neck, and behind her ear matched the gentle adoration of his hands over her breasts as he sought her reactions in the mirror. Reactions he fed even higher when one of his hands ran down her abdomen to tease between her legs.

Anna slid them apart, leaning into John's arm, and he maneuvered them closer to the basin so she could hold to the edge. His eyes flicked between hers in the mirror and the variations of white to her knuckles as he traced her folds. Fingers pinched and manipulated the swollen and heating flesh between flicks of his thumb against her clit to leave Anna digging her nails into the wood of the basin to match the cries escaping her throat.

Long since forgetting about the crew and not caring much for them all the same, John only checked the lock on the door before he pressed himself closer to improve the angle of his wrist. But he drew his own double-edged sword with the desire as Anna's hips rocking onto his fingers left her ass running the length of him so he thickened in time with the wetness soaking his fingers as he explored further and deeper inside her. Any desire to try and seduce her without consequences now left John gritting his teeth to stop himself biting into her shoulder or thrusting mindlessly into her. Instead her crooked his fingers inside her and held her gaze in the mirror as he pressed from within and without at the same time.

Anna shattered, her back arching to push her shoulders into his chest and provide him a modicum of relief as the pressure on his throbbing arousal briefly abated. But when the bowstring of Anna's back released, John's fingers still trapped between her tightened legs, she rubbed even more furiously against him. Almost on instinct John's fingers dug into Anna's hips and his forehead landed heavily on her shoulder as his eyes scrunched shut to try and maintain the shred of control he tempted himself to believe he still maintained.

But Anna's fingers lightly landing on his wrist to pull his hand from between her legs brought his eyes fluttering open. The sight of Anna drawing each finger into her mouth to slowly suck it clean stole all hope of relief or patience from him. His knee spread between hers and John thrust forward in a second.

Anna's other hand thudded on the wood, her hand curving around the edge of it as if she might find a solid hold there. The combination of John grinding his hips against hers to reach the end of her and the rock of the boat proved to her the depths of her misjudgment. And the pace John set, guided by the noises Anna made, drove the point home. They were nothing but slaves to one another and they thrust without finesse or focus beyond meeting the edge of pleasure together.

Each shiver as John's hands roamed over her or as the hair from his chest brushed over her back when he moved closer to drive deeper, has him grinding his hips. Every little squeal or squirm forced a roll or a hard thrust to leave Anna groaning. And her fingers seeking the place between her legs John could not reach with his hands busy at her breasts, quickened the punishing pace. Only their short, almost strangled breaths punctuated the sticky slap of their skin together as they moved in unison until the climbing gasps finally signaled the soprano cry from Anna allowed John's only grunt into her shoulder.

Somehow they managed to move themselves back to the bed, Anna still held to John's chest as he curled his body around hers. Her fingers stroked along his arm until her grip relaxed and John listened for the deep breathing that signaled she fell asleep. He stayed behind her, only adjusting to rescue his arm from under her, and only moved when knuckles rapped against the door to the cabin.

She only grumbled and turned toward the wall as John worked himself over and around her. His bare feet hit the wood and he found his trousers to work them on before opening the door. It hid Anna from view but John blocked all view of the cabin with his bulk as he blinked in surprise as Branson standing before him. The other man only smiled and nodded toward the cabin.

"Making good use of that I see."

"What are you doing here?"

"I had time to get here since you had to wait for high tide to sail away." Branson shrugged, "And we both know you're shit without me. Look at the mess you got yourself into up there."

"What about the telegram?"

"Sent."

"And the men?"

"Already divided into their respective duties. Some are asleep and others are about their business." Branson gently punched at John's arm. "For someone who claims to having once bee a commander of a ship, you're not as controlling as I would've imagined."

"You must've imagined me a horrible ship's captain."

"I can't say that ruling from your cabin is the best way to earn the respect of your crew but, for as vulgar as it'll sound, they'll understand once they've all seen the woman I'll assume is asleep on the bed in there."

"Whatever thoughts you have-"

"Nothing untoward, I assure you." Branson cracked a smile, "If I know John Bates, and I'd like to think I do, then you left her very satisfied."

"She's yet to complain."

"Then I'll take your excuses to the men." Branson paused, "About that ship from the Dutch Indies…"

John narrowed his eyes, "What about it?"

"Pamuk paid the right people in Hong Kong before he ever got there. I might suspect he telegrammed from Qingdao before you abducted him because the ship's already left port in the Dutch Indies and the British wouldn't accept anything about a shipment of weapons and ordinance."

"Did they accept him as a smuggler?"

Branson winked, "He didn't pay all the right people."

"So the British won't stop the ship?"

"They had a simple blockade in the Dutch Indies already, something about taxes and smuggling but I suspect just so the officers could fleece the captains of those ships, but a few snuck past them in a storm." Branson cringed, "A storm they predict we'll hit on our way north."

"So we're racing a storm and a ship filled with as many guns as this one to reach the north?" Branson nodded and John knocked his head gently against the door. "I think we've made a horrible mistake."

"No," Branson shook his head, "We've far past the time for horrible mistakes."

"Are we?"

Branson nodded, "If we wanted to not make a mistake, we should've stayed here in Hong Kong and not've unwittingly tried to escape Carlisle. He would've gone north and we'd never've had to worry about him or what he brought us."

"But then who would we be?"

"Healthier, stronger, and richer men."

"I don't think we could guarantee any of those things."

"I could for me." Branson snorted, "You… You'd be dead in a gutter if not for Carlisle drawing your arms behind your back."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence."

Branson motioned toward the interior of the cabin. "The woman in there, Anna… I've a sneaking suspicion you'd be dead without her."

John snorted, his hand moving on the door to shut it. "You've no idea how true that statement is."

"I don't know if I ever want to know the extent of it." Branson mocked a salute, "Sleep on sir. There'll be enough problems to meet tomorrow."

"Goodnight Tom."

"Goodnight John."

John closed the door and worked back to the bed, leaving his clothing in a careless pile to join Anna under the covers she burrowed under haphazardly. After a moment correcting them, gently tugging and yanking them from Anna's unconscious grip to arrange them as they both needed, John snuggled in beside her. In a moment she tucked herself close to him and John used her breathing to steady his own until he joined her in sleep.


	18. Great Power

Flinging out a hand, John held himself in place as the rough waves rocked the ship in time with a flash of lightning ripping a jagged streak across the sky. He saw Anna, holding herself as immobile as she could manage on the bed, and worked from the door toward her. "Are you alright?"

"Better than the men you've got up on deck." Anna pointed toward the ceiling of their cabin and then returned to her solid hold on the wood when the ship rocked violently enough to send the chairs in the room skidding over the floor. "I'm sure they're not grateful to you for their position."

"They're the ones who wanted to be out there." John shuddered, "I think they might be mad."

"Hence how your friend Tom manage to get them to help us in the first place." Anna shifted slightly and John turned to take a seat on the bed with her as a swell rocked the boat. He thumped sideways and Anna barely stopped him bumping into her as the ship rolled again.

"Possibly." John corrected his posture, reaching a hand out to catch the swinging lantern as he offered Anna an apologetic look. "But they're also the only people truly able to guide this ship so I'll risk them exposed to the elements for a stretch so we actually reach Qingdao."

"Would it be so bad if we didn't?" Anna shrugged in response to John's expression. "Sinking all these guns to the bottom of the East China Sea."

"I think we might still be in the Formosa Strait."

"All the same. The guns would be useless, even if someone could drag them from the watery depths, and we'd be a few hundred weapons fewer in this world."

"And what of the ship that's already broken through the British line and is traveling just as quickly to reach our destination." John sighed, "I think there's a loss on our end if our guns are the ones that sink and those guns make it to their port."

"Probably true." Anna leaned her head back against the wall of wood and let out a breath. "What do you plan to do once we get to Qingdao? With William and everyone waiting for us."

"Train them up, best I can." John chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. "It's not that I don't have the practice."

"I'm sorry." Anna put a hand on his arm, sliding closer with intention and as a consequence of another rock of the boat. "I do remember what you said about what that all did to you in India."

"A lifetime ago." John snorted, "Or two lifetimes ago, technically speaking."

Anna smiled at him, "Will it be so painful now, as it was then?"

"Maybe more, I don't know." John covered her hand with his. "I've not held a gun in so long I don't know how it'll affect me."

"Then don't touch them."

"You can't show someone how to use a gun without using one yourself."

Anna's fingers dug slightly into John's arm and he lifted his gaze from her fingers to her face. "Maybe I was wrong. To bring you in on this at all and-"

"No." John's fingers interlaced with hers, pulling them from his arm so he could kiss over her knuckles. "I was lost and broken before you."

"This could break you again."

"I don't think so." John gazed at Anna's fingers, turning and twisting his between hers as he continued. "What I did in India, the man I was there… I don't think that man's the same one joining your crusade."

"No?"

"No." John shook his head, placing a final kiss on the back of Anna's hand. "That man died when you helped bring me back."

"Back?" Anna frowned, "I don't understand."

"The person I am now, I think that's the person I buried when I gave up."

"Gave up on what?" Anna's voice was soft, just a whisper in John's ear as they maneuvered closer to one another.

"On life." John's other hand, the one not locked in hers followed the line of her cheek to hold it gently in his hand. "You gave me life. Without you I'd be no one, I'd be lost, and I'd be no better than dead."

It took less than a second for Anna to close the distance between them. Her free hand wrapped around the back of his neck, keeping his lips on hers when he might pull away, and John used the combination of his weight and her hold on him to press them to the mattress. The rock of the boat played against them as if to try and force them apart but John worked them with the sway until he lay over her with Anna's legs spread around him.

He broke the kiss then, taking his fingers from hers to remove his clothes. Anna followed suit and they shifted and wrestled until they could lie skin to skin. The moment John could smooth over her skin they slowed again. Their clothing discarded, the sway of the ship slowing as the forks of lightning stabbed through the sky to leave the cabin strobing between the white-blue light from the large windows and the swinging lanterns above them.

John used his elbows to keep his weight over her and bent at the neck to slowly trace the line of her cheek with kisses. Kisses he placed as gently as possible over her skin while her fingers traced the scars on his back between digging her fingers into the skin when John's kisses moved to her breasts. Anna's legs moved higher, holding tightly to John's hips as he traded his tongue and teeth with his hands until Anna squirmed and writhed under him.

Moving lower had John dragging his tongue from her breasts to her navel, his fingers and hands still kneading and massaging her breasts until his shoulders moved her legs farther apart. One of them looped over his shoulder and John slid his hands down to her hips and held there as his tongue worked over her nerves. With a determined suck, Anna's knee clinched on his shoulder and John held tighter to her hips when he dug his tongue through her folds. Her fingers carded into his hair to find a more secure grip before John delved deeper to bring Anna writhing under him. To work them both with the sway of the boat until her vaginal walls strangled at the fingers he used to work inside her until Anna finished.

The heave of her chest above him had John licking slowly until her fingers eased their rigorous clutch of his head. As they pulled away, ruffling his hair on their descent until her hands hit the mattress under her, John took his kisses back up her body. Anna's hazy eyes took him in, closing when he repeated his gentle kisses over her breasts until her knee jabbed his side.

John winced but continued the kiss as they adjusted to place him right at her entrance. His hands followed the line of her legs, caressing her skin as he wrapped her leg securely over his hip, and met her eyes before thrusting forward. The arch of her neck begged for his lips to kiss and he did as he rolled an easy pace between the two of them. A slight pain on his shoulders alerted him to the presence of Anna's nails in his skin and the jab just under his ass told him that the leg wrapped over his hip placed her heel high up his thigh.

None of it mattered. Each slight hint of pain guided his actions, reangled his thrusts against the rocking of the ship, and then used it to trace the pleasure undulating from Anna when the lanterns swung about wildly and cast the room in waving shadows split only by white light accompanied by thunderous noises covering any that escaped her throat. The dusky light, even swaying in opposition to their movements, cast Anna's hair as gold and her skin glowed with the reflection. It drew John in and he could not stop himself kissing over every bit of it in his reach until he bent his neck to take her breasts for the third time.

Anna's heel dug harder into his thigh and one of the hands formerly raking furrows over his shoulder opted to sink her nails into the flesh of his ass as she adjusted her hips to take him deeper. John's kisses grew sloppy over her skin and he extended himself, pulling back from her breasts to press his desperate lips against her neck as his left knee dug into the mattress to provide the leverage he needed. The leverage that increased his pace, sent him deeper, and would leave nothing but bloody marks over him when Anna finished as he snaked a hand between them to bring her over the edge again.

Her assault on him, combine with the unrelenting stranglehold of her internal muscles over him, had John thrusting mindlessly into her. One of his hands found her thigh and lifted it wider and higher, sending him impossibly deeper as Anna fluttered around him and cried out into his ear. That was the tipping point that sent John over the edge to join her.

The bed was nothing but a muddle of sheets and blankets, the victims in a war of passion, as John's body finished with the last half-hearted thrusts. Thrusts more on instinct than need as he collapsed onto his forearms. He tried to keep his weight off her but Anna's limbs enfolded him as if clenching on impact to keep him close to her.

Gentle brushes over his shoulders matched the delicate ruffle of his hair as Anna breathed in his ear. The thud of their hearts in their pressed-together chests left them synchronizing as John turned them sideways to keep close but not pressed so impossibly tight. His fingers mimicked hers, tracing her face and tangling through her hair to try and situation the strands of it he left in a mess from his actions.

Her legs gradually eased away from him and they separated to lay next to one another on the swaying mattress. John kissed over her face as her fingers settled to tracing his chest until one of her hands manipulated his chin to bring their mouths together. The kisses were short, punctuated by their steady breathing, and only stopped when Anna drew back.

"I'll miss this."

John frowned, "Miss what?"

"This bed."

"On a rocking ship?"

"Away from everything." Anna's hand pressed over John's heart and she stared at it instead of looking at him. "Once this ship docks, that will be it."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Even if we win-"

"Anna-"

Her fingers went over his lips, stopping him as their eyes met. "Even if we win, given all that lies between us and victory, that won't be it. Things'll change and we'll have to change with them."

"Apart?" John moved Anna's fingers from his lips and gaped as she pushed herself out of the bed to pace the cabin. "Is this… Are we finished after this?"

"No," Anna shook her head, one hand going to run through her hair as if she intended to pull it out one strand at a time and the other holding to her hip as she paced. "Never that. It won't be that."

"Then what?" John sat up, watching her.

"If we win, take back the mine, beat Barrow, and hand it all over to General Crawley, where will we be then?"

"Free?"

"You realize that someone new'll have to lead the garrison at Beijing. And there's no way I can stay in Beijing. Not now that Mary knows where I am, what I've been doing… I suspect she'll have told my cousin and he'll come to bring me back to Hong Kong at the very least, if not all the way back to England."

"To be the Lady Islington, Duchess of Starling and Oldham?"

Anna nodded, "The dream has to end sometime."

"Or the nightmare."

"I used to think it was that." Anna stopped, her hands gripping the back of the chair that slid away from the table in the cabin. "But after I met you… My dreams were rather lovely and I… I don't want to lose that."

"You're assuming you will."

"Because I know my cousin. I know my grandmother and the tight grip she has on my family. I know that my cousin, no matter what he may want, won't have a choice but to retrieve me, drag me back to England for castigation, and then marry me off to the closest thing to a peer they can find before I continue to disgrace my family." Her fingers flexed on the wood. "That's what I know will happen."

"Then give it all up." John shrugged, pushing himself off the bed and walking slightly sideways to reach Anna. His hands went on either side of hers on the chair. "Tell them they can sod off and stay here."

"And be a nurse?"

"It's fulfilling. And once the mine's no longer a problem and you can go back to helping people not put in perilous situations by the worst bastard I've ever met, then you can take pride in your work again."

Anna gave him a little smile, "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"What about what happens when General Crawley gives you command of Beijing and you have to put yourself back in that fancy dress uniform?"

"You're assuming he will."

"If, then."

"That's a big if." John gave a little sigh at Anna's raised eyebrow. "It's not unheard of that a solider married his nurse."

"You'd marry me?"

John nodded and knelt on the chair, taking her left hand so his forefinger and thumb held her ring finger. "Anna Smith will you take a poor soldier with no prospects and nothing to offer you as your husband?"

Anna covered his hand with her other one and pulled him closer. "Are you worried I'd say anything but 'yes'?"

"I had a moment." John smiled and leaned forward as if to kiss her but Anna turned her face away so his lips skated over her cheek. "Anna?"

"I want to celebrate my engagement and…" Anna dragged her tongue over her teeth and John shivered. "I'd like to celebrate it my way."

"And what way is that?"

"Because," Anna shrugged, "If this is as far as we go, due to fate or forces out of our control, I'd like to take some control for myself."

John pushed off the chair, holding his arms out. "I'm at your mercy."

"Good." Anna tapped her hand against the chair. "You might want to sit for this. It won't be over soon."

John shivered again and sat down, holding to the chair as if slid slightly with a swell. The rocking of the boat was no longer as violent as before, the roll of the waves less fierce as the lightning struck in the growing distance, the storm leaving them for land as they continued north. His feet flexed over the floor as Anna dug in one of the trunks behind him, her hand turning his head to face the other wall when he tried to peek over his shoulder at her work.

"Don't spoil the surprise."

"What surprise?"

"You'll know in a moment." A lid thudded and Anna came into view, holding a length of rope in her hands. "I found this the other day and I've been hoping to find an excuse to use it."

"Have you?" John swallowed, his knuckles whitening on the seat of the chair as Anna uncoiled the rope. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, and coughed a little when the snap of the rope brought his body to attention.

Anna caught sight of it but only smiled. "I guess I made the right choice."

"There's not much you could ever do wrong."

"Not to you, maybe." Anna carefully moved John's arms to the arms of the chair and threaded the rope from one wrist to the other to keep him in place. The knots were tight but did not cut into his skin when he tested them. With a few strong pulls he could loose himself and John relaxed into Anna's finish with his feet. When his ankles were secure she rose before him, her hands resting just above his knees.

"Am I restrained to your satisfaction Ms. Smith?"

Anna grinned at him, "I think you are. This way you can't interrupt me."

"All you had to do was ask and I would've done whatever you wanted."

"I know." Anna held his face in her hands, kissing him softly before drawing back. "And now I'm going to ask you to be as loud as you want."

"Someone might hear."

"Let them." Anna carefully slotted her legs through the arms of the chairs so she could straddle John's lap. "I don't care about them and they don't care about us."

"And what do you want me to be loud about?"

"Telling me exactly what you want."

John narrowed his eyes, "I thought this was about you being in control."

"That doesn't mean I don't want to know about how to make you better lose control." Anna's fingers played with a bit of hair at his forehead before pushing it back. "We'll be under the thrall of something else in no time at all. For now, you can be under mine."

"I'm always under yours, no matter what."

Anna let her fingers firm her grip slightly at the back of his neck. "Then tell me what you want, John. Tell me what you want me to do."

"Whatever you like."

The leer of her grin had John swallowing hard as his hips jerked slightly of their own accord. "Then I'll proceed, shall I?"

John did not answer as Anna kissed him hard. Her lips and tongue took control of his mouth, manipulating him as she would with his body only able to flex helplessly with the restraints keeping him immobile. But Anna used this to advantage when, almost as soon as she began, Anna dragged back from his lips and unfolded herself from the chair and off John.

Given the position of the legs of the chair and the rope around his ankles, John's knees were spread far enough apart so that Anna could slide herself between them. Her kisses attacked over his neck, dragging her teeth over tendons before flicking her tongue to tease with little tastes that took her to his chest. A chest and heaved and buckled under the speed of his breathing when she adored his chest the way he adored hers. Sensitivity had him bucking, knocking the legs of the chair against the wood hard enough to almost upset Anna's position.

She only smiled and moved lower, her fingers gripping hard into his skin to hold him still so she could paint his abdomen with kisses that traced to his thighs. The flex of her hand holding the hip opposite to where her mouth followed the lines of his legs left a free hand for Anna to tauntingly trip over the length of his rising erection. The same hand she used to squeeze and stoke him until she traded hands to bring her kisses up his other thigh.

That was when her arrival, at his now proud arousal, forced John's head back. He sucked in air as Anna brought her tongue swirling over him. She sucked deeply, taking John deeper and deeper while her hands held to his hips or rolled his sack between her fingers. The weight of him and the exultant affection she lathered over him finally forced John's voice from his throat. But all he could manage were groans and grunts, unable to hold himself back from expression but completely unable to articulate a thing.

Anna continued, her hands and tongue working until John managed to choke out a plea. She paused, pulling back with a final lick toward his tip before pulling back. Stretching out a second, Anna held the arms of the chair to steady herself for another toss of the ocean, before taking her original position on John's lap.

She scooted closer to him, trapping his erection between their bodies, and looped her arms around his shoulders. John could only lean into her, restrained as he was, and wait for Anna to make the first move. But she only ground against him until John whimpered.

"I'll take that as my invitation to continue." Anna put her knees on the little space left to her on the edge of the chair, and lifted up enough to slide herself down onto him. They held there for a moment before Anna started to move.

Her movements rocked with the ship, shifting and sliding as she controlled the progress of their mutual climax. Each of her carefully controlled movements kept John on the edge as he struggled against the ropes. Struggled to try and hold her or better control their motions so he could do more than stare between her breasts, the sight of her as she slicked over him, the wash of swaying light over them as the lanterns in the ship moved with the waves.

He came before she did, tipped over the edge by her teasing and tight grip. Anna dug her fingers into his skin as he bucked into her and followed him over to orgasm. They held tightly to one another as Anna buried her forehead between his shoulder and his neck.

John tugged the ropes enough to loosen his hands and held her. They kept close to one another until John kissed at her neck. "We'll have to move."

"I know." Anna uncurled herself and untied John, helping them toward the bed. "I hope you know, I'll marry you… If we survive."

"And I'll make sure to get you a ring if we survive."


	19. Great Responsibility

They docked and John joined Branson on deck to watch the odd ballet between those pulling the ship in and their crew pushing to settle right alongside the pier. Branson nodded, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to John. "The sailors I got to join your little voyage've asked for their cut of it."

"Sorry?"

Branson shrugged, "They believe you're a smuggler. Or that you stole the cargo. They just want a cut of it."

"I'll do them one better if they promise not to test their futures on piracy." John waved his hand toward the ship. "They can keep the whole ship. Spilt it between themselves down to the beams for all I care."

"You'd give them the ship?"

"I've got no use for it." John took a slow pivot, squinting against the harsh winter sun as it attempted to blind him. "What do I know about ships?"

"Enough to use the cabin." Branson snorted and held up his hands in surrender at John's scowl. "Enjoy it while you can I say."

"Because we're all going to die?"

"If anyone's going to die, it's not going to be me." Branson jabbed a thumb toward his chest. "I'm staying right here while you go off and fight in a crusade for your lady love."

"You're not going to help?"

"Not in this." Branson shook his head, "It's… It's not my fight, John. And as much as I want to help, fighting's not for me. It never was and I wasn't any good when I was supposed to be a fighter anyway."

John nodded, "You were pretty shit at it."

"I was." Branson let loose a little smile before it faded. "What I can do is be here. I'll make sure this lot don't turn to piracy. Maybe become smugglers or traders or the like but turn them to honest work."

"They've got the ship for it."

"Right they do." Branson sighed, "And you'll need someone who can get into your telegraph offices. If your Chinaman had difficulty even getting something to Hong Kong after all that time, you'll need someone a bit quicker on this end. Especially if you're still hoping we beat that other ship here."

John shuddered, pulling his coat tighter about himself. "This whole thing I just a test of how far can we step toward the edge before we tumble to our inevitable demise."

"You're assuming you'll lose."

"Without you, we're lost for sure." John opened his arms and Branson embraced him, thumping so hard on John's back he coughed. "Try not to kill me before I've given these boys a fighting chance eh?"

"Maybe if I incapacitate you now, I won't have to worry about you dying in the forgotten bush of Shandong." Branson took a moment to gather himself before his spoke again, his throat a little thick. "I'd miss you terribly if you died John. Maybe I'm not supposed to say that but… You're one of the best friends I've ever had. It wouldn't be easy to replace you."

"I intend to come back in one piece, don't you worry about that." John clapped his shoulder and turned to the shipping officers approaching the ship. "I think I should deal with them and get this cargo unloaded."

"Perfect timing." Both men turned as Anna joined them on deck, bundled in a thick coat to match John's. "William's just over there and… I see he's brought help and a few wagons."

John turned to Branson, "What do you know about bribing dock officials?"

It took less time than John anticipated, and less haggling to reach a price that allowed them to unload the cargo they needed from the hold and get the crates into the wagons drawn by oxen larger than John had ever seen. It was his first time seeing the hold and he quickly handed over the items requested by the dock officials to allow them to sneak the guns away unnoticed. The rest he left, with his blessing on the ship, to the sailors who immediately cast off to make port elsewhere. John could only wish them the best of luck.

Branson helped him tie down the last of the crates before they hugged again. "Don't get yourself killed now. I don't want to be a driver forever and there's work to be done in Hong Kong. Beijing too… If you wanted to go back there."

"I'll keep my prospects on that front open." John nodded at him. "Take care of yourself Tom. I've not got many friends and it'll be terrifying to try and replace you."

"Not sure you could."

"Me either." John clapped his shoulder before climbing into the back of the cart that William drove, with Anna sharing the seat next to him. "Give my regards to your lovely nurse next time you see her."

Branson waved them off and the odd caravan of oxcarts pulled from the city. They rambled slowly, the oxen moving at their preferred pace over the terrain as William merely guided them through the winding roads and over the rises and falls until they were deeper into the bush of the territory. Deep enough that the cold settled more fully and the wind whipped through the rounded landscape to leave them all shivering in their layers.

But they traveled through the night, stopping only briefly for rests of the animals, to trade lead carts, and take their business off the beaten path. By the breaking light of dawn, they finally reached a small village around the outskirts of what John recognized as the canyons and hills that eventually formed the outliers of the mine. Here they pulled to a stop and the three of them, with the other cart drivers, dismounted and started unloading the crates into a rather shoddy looking barn. The thatched roof bulged and thinned in places with holes and shafts of light betraying the hardened soil of former mud puddles in times of heavy rain.

They stacked the crates all the same and John used the bent edge of a shovel to break the wooden lid from one, the nails groaning against the pressure until the wood snapped to leave the resting guns open to their view. John rested the shovel against the pile and tapped his hands on the edge of the crate as Anna joined him, the other men peeking into their treasure box. With a deep breath, John hauled one of the guns from its place and tested the weight in his arms.

It settled well, a little too well for John's comfort, but he pushed aside the emotions and set about to the mechanics. Muscle memory acted quickly and he dissembled the weapon quickly enough that the men around him gasped a bit in their surprise. But he pushed that aside. Instead he tested the slide, checked the rifling in the barrel, tested the catches and magazine loading, discovered the lock to send single shots or a stream, and finally fired off a single shot to test the accuracy. The bullet lodged in the far wall, sending a puff of stone dust to signal its position and John lowered the weapon.

"They'll do."

"What about ammunition and ordinance?" Anna knocked her foot against a lower crate. "Having the weapons is all well and good but we've only got ten shots a man then…"

"Especially if the other weapons arrive." John pointed to the other crates, "We've got to get them all open. Get an inventory and then-"

"Is this you taking charge?" The group turned to see Mr. Ke standing in the doorway of the barn. "Because if that's what you're suggesting, then I heartily give myself rest to lay down my old bones."

"Mr. Ke." Anna hugged the man hard for a moment before pulling away. "What are you doing here?"

"I think you'll find that Mr. Green consistently underestimates those he believes inferior to himself." Mr. Ke shrugged, "He allows me the morning walks to strengthen my old bones for a day of keeping the rowdy and restless in line."

"Then I'll assume he's become a bit lax in his attitude toward a mine he no longer needs and a working population he plans to leave buried in the proof?" John eyed Mr. Ke as the man nodded. "How many more have gotten out since we did?"

"Only two. The… Scandal is not the right word for it but suggesting that your actions were theater doesn't do your work justice."

"It did us enough justice." Anna put her hand on Mr. Ke's arm, "What about Mrs. He? Is she well?"

"Still as well as ever. With you gone she's now the chief nurse and it's given her the chance to hear a bit more than she used to. She's our main informant on the goings-on of those above us at the mine now."

"Is she ready?"

Mr. Ke nodded, "We've snuck a few people back into the camp, on occasion, to pass messages and she's received them. Between her work and mine they're ready for the signal."

"What signal?" John frowned, "We've not devised one."

"I just told them to be ready for something very unsubtle and they'll know what that is when they see it."

"Something along the lines of a dozen automatic weapons raking over the command tents would be something." Anna paused, "What about the other plan?"

"We've managed to pilfer a small amount but it'll be nothing but a distraction. It's not enough to do any significant damage."

"We only need a distraction to get Green back to his tent." Anna glanced toward John's confused face and shrugged a shoulder. "I asked Mr. Ke if he could get any of the explosives. He's not manage much but it'll be enough to get Green back to his tent. If he's there then…"

"Then you can kill him."

Anna nodded, "I don't intend on losing him in the confusion."

John pursed his lips, chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment. "Then that gives us a bit more of a battle plan."

Anna blinked at him, "What?"

"If Green's the target, then we'd use the explosives to get him sequestered away. You and I could sneak in, before the charges are lit, and wait for him there. He comes to us, you kill him, and then we take the mine when the head's cut off the snake. Surround the place in the confusion and catch the guards off-guard."

Mr. Ke hummed a moment before nodding, "That doesn't solve the problem of the aid bound to bear down on us. If we plan this attack for Chinese New Year, as your message said, then we've got to worry about those who'll coming looking for us afterward. Those who'll mean us harm even when our chief oppressor is dead."

"We've thought of that." John flexed his jaw, "One solution is that we just scatter to the winds. Leave the mine a smoking ruin, as Green intends, but without the bodies buried under it. We'd all simply vanish like ghosts."

"I could see many of those who've suffered who would take well to that plan." Mr. Ke sighed, "A chance to leave their Hell behind them."

"The only problem with that plan is that those also responsible for the terror and the misery of that place go unpunished." John flicked his gaze to Anna, who nodded. "People like Barrow and anyone who's aided Green in his venture."

"What do you propose to do about them?"

"We'd let those who want to go leave. Let them go back to their families and loved ones and forget this place exists. But for those willing to face down the British Army…" John took a breath, "We're assuming, of course, that Barrow knows Green's possible plan. That he's expecting a cut. And when he's robbed of it that he'll come looking to take what he believes is his."

"And you want to defend the mine against him?"

"We need to hold him in position until General Crawley can come from Hong Kong." John shrugged, "He's already on his way. We just need the evidence to present him so it's more than our word against his. Especially after Barrow's so thoroughly destroyed my reputation."

"And what of the gold?" Mr. Ke's eyes swept the other men in the barn, each of them fidgeting slightly at the mention of it. "I'm sure you've plans for that as well."

"I don't want it, if that's what you're thinking." John waved a hand toward the men with them. "When we find where Green's stashed his prize, we'll give it to those who worked for it. A pittance, really, but it's what they earned. Let the people who worked for it take it for all I care."

"And you'd want none of it?"

"I've wanted none of this from the beginning." John looked at Anna, "And I've already got what I would want to take away from this place."

"You'd be satisfied with that?"

John nodded, "I'm here to train these men who to use these weapons, to help them free their friends, to take a bit of what's owed them, and then to hand it all over as proof of crime to those who can do something about it. Then I plan to go somewhere quiet and live the rest of my life as if none of this ever happened."

"Even if it did?"

"Especially because it did." John gestured to the crates. "Shall we?"

The village, under Mr. Ke's direction, was composed entirely of those Anna helped fake their deaths for escape. Some of the elders of the village were those who hobbled out of the pile of the dead and went as far as they could go. But it proved a boon as building their hideaway in the shadow of the beast they barely escaped meant they were overlooked. The psychology of living so close to the enemy left the enemy blind to them, which suited John and his band of eager recruits just fine.

Their inventory of the crates them with enough guns for all those who could wield them and enough ammunition for training and for the attack. But firearms training, with live rounds, was spotty at best given the echoes and reverberations of the terrain around them. Instead, with the help of Mr. Ke and the intelligence gathered by Mrs. He, they carefully cultivated a schedule that allowed them to fire only when explosives or planned cave-ins were imminent at the mine. Just as Green planned to hide his destruction of his secret project under the cover the impending fireworks, John hid his training of the green volunteers under the work at the mine.

And as Christmas and the New Year drew ever closer, John wondered if perhaps it would be best to succumb to a more American way of shooting given his trainees apprehensions about the weapons. Their eagerness left them vulnerable to their adrenaline and their shots never reflected the accuracy of the British Army as he knew it. Not that they were the prime pickings the British Army ever had in mind but with their overzealous attitude, John carefully rationed their rounds to ensure they had any left for the actual attack.

The cold proved a boon and a bane to their efforts, as chilled fingers struggled to pull the triggers but it left them immune to possible searches of the mountains if any of their noise bled down to the mine. Each day grew colder and their layers increased until John finally only called their firing sessions when the sun was hottest in the sky to seek a bit or reprieve for their freezing fingers and toes. At night, and in the mornings, they all continued to train with their martial art skills as Mr. Ke insisted they lose none of their martial edge. John even participated and taught them some of the moves that saved him in the days he fought the fighting pits. And through the dark of the nights they all huddled together in the tiny houses and tried to keep warm over fires that never seemed to spread the heat further than a few feet.

Christmas dawned with news from William, via Branson's work at the Qingdao, that the other ship had been spotted docking in Beijing. William's report told them that Branson had gone north as quickly as he could to try and get news of the shipment but John already feared the worst. Especially since news of the Boxer Rebellion worsening to the point where the British Army was aided by a number of other European powers in the area to put down the fighters. Their time, such as it was, quickly dribbled away before them.

European New Year passed unnoticed by the Chinese but John and Anna took a day to sneak off to Qingdao. The trip allowed them a visit with the returned Branson, to celebrate with him amid the dark cloud that told them Barrow managed to secure the entire shipment for himself and his men, leaving the possibility of their depleted resources fighting fresh-faced and heavily armed soldiers within the coming week. They all drank a bit of champagne- secreted to them from Branson's sailor friends now earnestly engaged in the smuggling trade- and bid their well-wishes for the New Year before they all separated to walk their deep thoughts alone. Or, in John and Anna's case, around the city settling with a wet snow that stuck to nothing but made the walk more miserable.

"Here," Anna tugged John's arm toward a little church. "Just for a moment. I missed the chance at Christmas and I'd like a little time."

"I didn't know you attended church."

"Not had much of a chance at it, sequestered away with Buddhists and Daoists for the last three years but…" Anna shrugged, "But there's never a bad time to discover your faith."

"We could use a bit of divine intervention in the coming days." John followed her into the building and sighed at the heat. "And it's better than the cold outside."

"Much." Anna agreed and they walked through the silent church to the front pews, taking their seats to sit in a comfortably warm silence. "Do you wonder if God's on our side in this?"

"I'm not sure why a God who preached about loving your neighbor would find it wrong that we're planning on freeing a number of our neighbors from oppression." John shrugged, "But I've never been one to claim any grand knowledge of God. We're not big talkers, He and I."

"I can't say we're exactly soldiers of the Lord ourselves." Anna's head bowed slightly, "We've not exactly been the purest of souls."

"Because we stole a ship, stole a cargo, trained people how to fight, and intend on murdering someone?"

"You forgot the part where we're also aggressive fornicators."

"I wouldn't have called it that." John squirmed for a moment, "And I think… I dunno but despite the teachings of the Catechism and Sunday Schools for years, I'd like to imagine that intent in our various sins has a lot more impact than simply a black mark for a bad action."

"He'd be an unjust God if it did."

"Even so," John lifted a shoulder, pausing when a priest emerged from the Rectory. "Father, isn't it a bit late for you?"

"It's never too late to do the work of the Lord, sir." The man approached them, his frame almost towering above John despite the slight hitch in his gait. "What brings you two young souls here on the first day of our Lord's new year?"

"Seeking a bit of relief from the cold and guidance from on high, Father." Anna offered a smile, pushing herself to stand. "But it is late and we-"

"We'd like you to marry us, Father." John held over Anna's hand and gave her a smile when she gawked at his announcement. "We would've waited a bit, for rings and a grander ceremony, but life's got a way of getting in the way and I think we should settle our eternal affairs here and now, if you'd mind."

"Not at all." The priest smiled at them, "I'm always pleased to offer divine matrimony to two souls seeking to be bound on earth."

There, in a tiny church in a foreign city in the dark cold of the early morning of a new year, John and Anna married. With no rings and no finery, dressed only in their worn and faded clothing, they held hands and recited vows to bind them together until death did them part. For a moment the shadow of that promise loomed heavily over them but it passed as they kissed one another.

With the promise from the priest to file the wedding as quickly as possible, and get news to the Embassy in Hong Kong of the marriage, they walked the bitterly cold streets to their little hotel and shut themselves in their room. John stoked the fire in the little stove, breathing life into it until the embers glowed red-yellow and heat percolated the room. When he turned he saw Anna, shed of her layers to reveal her shiveringly naked body, and quickly wrapped her in his embrace.

The little stove puffed its hardest and tried its best but they had to bury themselves beneath the blankets on the bed to try and find any warmth. Their movements hampered with shivers and twitches of muscles complaining of cold as they attempted to seduce and entice one another as they had in the cabin of the ship from Hong Kong. And despite the obvious frustrations of the cold, they warmed their bodies together between the friction of motion and their shared passion.

John kissed Anna's ring finger, slowing their jerky movements slightly so they no longer resembled youths attempting their first foray in the hay of a barn. Instead his fingers, chilled as they were and despite the pimpling evidence he left over Anna's skin when he stroked it, ran over her body as if to adore it for the last time. Her hands, still stuttering slightly over his skin as her body heated and the shivers dissipated, found their familiar holds and locations of sweetest caress to convey the depth of her affections.

Their cocoon in the bedclothes warmed enough for them to shift and maneuver, finding their preferred holds and embraces until Anna's soft whimpers and keens in John's ear matched perfectly with the stroke of his fingers inside her. His whispered promises to her ear, each one timed perfectly to match a drag of his callouses across her inner walls or to tease that spot inside her that left her legs twitching and clutching at his hips, only left Anna moaning into him. And as his thumb finished her with a gentle flick over her swollen clit, Anna shattered around him with a soft cry.

They joined them, the tuck and folds of blankets trapped in their bent bodies until they shuddered or kicked them away to leave a rumpled mess. The shock of cold air forced them to pause, John in mid stroke, until they could burrow deeply under the covers again. But once they found a position that did not risk the burn of rubbing material to match the torturously slow pace John engaged, they continued with gusto. Anna's hips angled, John's strokes when longer when he opened her legs further, and finally fell over the edge a moment before she joined him with a softer fall than before.

Finding their positions on the bed was almost second nature, tucking into one another for comfort until the early hours of the morning. Then, with the stove long-since extinguished, John wrapped a sheet around him and danced over the cold floor to manage the dead coals. With them huffing and puffing for strength under the weight of new coal and some wood, John snuck back into the bed. But his chilled appendages brought Anna from her sleep. Sleep John failed to coax her back into and then surrendered to her assault on him.

Surrendered to her hands tracing every bit of him. Surrendered to the pull of her leg when her knee notched over his hip to bring their bodies together. Surrendered to the motions of her mouth and tongue when she only teased him with slow runs over his erection. And surrendered to her pace when he entered her.

John watched her, the covers over them barely moving as their bodies almost hesitated to move. Anna's hair draped behind her and he combed his fingers through it as her hands gripped his shoulders to find the leverage she wanted. The angle of their position, adjusting only slightly so they did not disrupt the warmth of their bedcovers, did not allow John the depth he preferred but Anna maneuvered to find where they both cried out with each joining. Their hips bumped and their hands tangled as they tried to bring the other to the edge first.

They fell together, or at least close enough that John could not tell if one followed the other or they jumped together. Afterward they held close to one another, the slow shiver starting again as the stove in the corner choked its last and only left a puff of smoke in its wake. But the shivers blended with the run of their fingers over skin as familiar as their own until they could not tell where one began and the other ended.

Morning came sooner than they wanted and they scrubbed with water they had to break ice chips from to use for their chilling sponge baths. But when they dressed in their layers, paid for the room, and hurried back toward the camp, they never loosened their hold on the other's hand. John's last motion, before he separated from Anna for the work of the day, was to kiss the finger where he wanted to put a ring.

"One day." He whispered and Anna nudged him behind a building to kiss him deeply before pulling away.

"Any day. We're together now."

"Until death do us part." John muttered but Anna's gloved hand brought his eyes to meet hers.

"That's enough for me. We're going to get through this. We're going to win."

"I'll believe it because you say it." John kissed her quickly, "Not long now."

"Not long at all."


	20. Position to Do Good

John covered his mouth to breathe out, not needing his breath fogging in the air to signal his position. He took another deep breath and nodded to the man behind him before crawling forward. With each lift forward of his elbows to drag himself across the frozen ground, John ensured the gun laid across his forearms raised to prevent the stock or barrel dragging.

They paused at the top of the rise and John signaled the man behind him to curve around so they took their positions. In the fading light, John pulled out a pair of field glasses and carefully covered the glass as he rolled to his side. Aiming the field glasses to one side, John slid his fingers back to expose enough of the glass to send a beam of light across the valley of the mine. An answering spot of light blinked twice and disappeared.

Tucking the field glasses away, John signaled to the man just behind him and they crawled into position. They burrowed into a crevice, working through the bents and clefts of the rocks until they reached the first level of the mine. Keeping to the corners, they shifted deeper into the mine and tried to track their progress as the workers shuffled out until they waited at the entrance of their section of the mine.

John tucked himself into a corner, holding his gun in the crooks of his arms as the man with him took a seat opposite. They kept silent, hunched over and shivering as whips of wind passed them. From the distance they could see the workers lining up for their evening meals.

"How long do we wait?" John tipped his head toward the other man when he spoke. "How long until we attack?"

"Nightfall." John pointed toward the sky, already darkening. "Mr. Ke and Mrs. He'll get the wagon with the remaining guns to pass to those below. Once all the entrances and exits are blocked, Ms. Smith and I take care of Green. Then we simply hold this place until help arrives."

"Assuming, of course, that we don't die."

John nodded, taking a deep breath as he settled back to rest on the wall. "Assuming, of course, that we don't all die."

The other man patted the gun in his hands. "What are our chances if we have these? You taught us to shoot them because they'll be what help us win, yes?"

"They'll certainly do more than your fists from a distance longer than your arm." John paused, "Just… Don't get too set on the idea that it'll be all you need to win. There's more involved in all this."

"Point and shoot?"

"I'm hoping we can take the mine without needing to shoot anything or anyone since we aren't exactly flush with ammunition." John paused at the man's confused face. "Just… Don't shoot unless you have to. Most of these people are like you, they just want to go home and live peacefully with their families."

"But not Green?"

"Him we can kill with extreme prejudice." John noticed the man's confusion and shook his head, "Never mind."

They sat in silence until another blink of light from the distance. John put the butt of his gun in his shoulder and nodded to the other man, "It's time."

Careful of their footing as they worked down the ridge, John maneuvered to the valley where the others gathered. Everyone shivered in unison before dividing and separating to their different groups with only a few nods and quiet whispers. In the dark and lack of confusion, John found Anna so they could pick their way up the familiar path toward the command tents. Tents that faintly glowed with shadows moving about the interiors.

They measured their steps, careful of the loose rocks and shale of the ridge with the minimal light from the tents glowing like shaded lanterns on their path. But they managed to reach Green's cabin and Anna paused, her hand reached out to touch the flap. Even with the weak light, diffused as it was through material of the nearest tents, John noted how it shook. His hand caught hers and their eyes, barely pinpricks in the night, met enough for her to nod in recognition of his presence. In the next instant they had the back door opened and were inside the cabin.

Mrs. He, with all her knowledge of the camp and the chronic underestimation of her abilities and attention span, had long since snuck their little band of resistors a detailed timetable. Once work ended and the workers shuffled through the mess for their meals, Green and his took theirs. The darkness at this time of year, so close to the dawn of the New Year and just barely ticked past Winter Solstice, played a deceptive role in the body's circadian rhythm as it sought to tell everyone that they needed sleep when it was really only just half-gone six. That left more than enough time for John and Anna to secret themselves into the darker corners of Green's cabin and wait for his inevitable return.

John huddled, his knee aching from their steadily slow crawl to the mine and then the antics that left him silent as a shadow. Unlike the younger men, hard trained and tested by Mr. Ke, John's older body could only take so much muscle twisting and contorting before it cried out in pain. Now, his knees tucked to his chest to keep himself behind a desk bearing a layer of dust thick enough to tell him the last time Green actually wrote a letter for himself. Easing out a breath as if to time his motions, John extended his leg to allow the jittering spasm of his knee to ease.

Anna glanced over at him but before John could shake his head to ease her worries, the door opened and John drew back his leg fast enough to knock himself in the chin. Almost biting through his tongue with the motion, John only replaced the literal knee-jerk reaction with a nip at his cheek that left his teeth gritted to stop a reactionary sound of pain. Instead he held his gun diagonally across his chest as Anna did the same in the small shadow of the wardrobe pressed close to the back door. They flicked their eyes toward one another as two voices filled the cabin.

"Is everything in place for tomorrow night?"

"The men'll be so pleased with the fireworks for the New Year. It's good luck to celebrate. And the cook's got on a fish stew, for good fortune in the coming year."

"I don't care what slop the cook decides to feed the others. I only care that all the lines are clear and the charges are set."

"They're all set, just as you instructed." Whoever the other man was, his deep voice paused. "If it's nothing to answer, sir, why did we lay the charges so deep into the mine? The men were wondering if the fireworks are going to go off into the sky why they where-"

"I'm sure you silenced them."

"I did, sir. But I'm curious too and-"

"I'll remind you… What's your name again?"

"It's-"

"Never mind, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you remember what happened to the man in your position before you. How he's now cold and half-rotted on a pile of other dead in that ravine we keep so close and accessible." Something creaked and John caught a glimpse of Green sitting on a spring bed. "Just keep in mind, for anyone curious, that they'll have a New Year like they've never had before… Even if they are a week late."

"It's the tradition, sir. The Chinese believe in a moon cycle and-"

"I don't care." Green snapped his fingers, "Get out."

The door closed after a swift set of steps over the wood and John met Anna's eyes again. She nodded slowly and John held up three fingers. He ticked them down slowly and when they all curled into his fist he leapt from his place with his gun in position and the stock steady in his shoulder.

Green jumped at the sudden noise and when his hand went under his pillow John hissed at him, nudging the barrel slightly to signal Green remove his hand. "I wouldn't if I were you."

"So the rumors are true." Green managed a snort, "I'd heard someone saw you in Qingdao but I didn't believe them. You know what Chinamen are like, thinking all the white men look exactly the same."

"As if you don't think the same thing." Anna joined John, the barrel of her gun pressed against Green's neck. "You never did bother to learn their names."

"And Anna too… What a surprise." Green turned slightly to see her. "Looking a bit worse for wear, Nurse Smith. I guess being away from camp doesn't agree with you. Perhaps the company of Captain Bates here wasn't what you hoped."

"You wouldn't know a thing about it." Anna stabbed more firmly with the barrel and Green winced. "Where's the gold?"

"What, want your cut of it?"

"We're hoping to leave you bleeding over it." John shrugged a shoulder at Green's confused expression. "Thought there was a bit of poetry to it."

"I wouldn't think poetry's the purview of a military man."

"Your military man saw to the swift end of that career almost a year ago." John put the barrel of his gun on Green's chest. "I'm not opposed to testing this weapon by taking off your fingers and toes one at a time. The magazine holds at least twenty rounds so I wouldn't run out before you do, in case you're curious."

Green studied him then, eyes flicking between John's face and the gun. "That's one of the guns the Germans promised me through Mr. Pamuk. You wouldn't happen to know what happened to him, would you?"

"I might have a few bits and bobs of information from Hong Kong." John narrowed his eyes. "But I'll assume your friend Barrow told you he's already got himself a similar shipment. Was that his plan all along?"

"The Major's got his own agendas that don't concern me and are no concern of mine." Green shrugged, "What do I know about the weapons he's got when I know you've got the weapons I wanted."

"And how were you going to pay for them?"

"With gold, of course."

"And where," Anna's barrel dragged over Green's skin leaving a harsh red line, "Would that be?"

Green laughed then, "You're both much smarter than I gave you credit for. Faking your deaths, getting yourselves to Hong Kong, and then back here with the weapons I ordered…" He paused, "You must've figured out the mine's run dry."

"We had our sources."

"Then you know why tomorrow is so important to me."

"Time to bury the evidence of your work." John spoke, catching the clench of Anna's jaw. "We're going to make sure that doesn't happen."

"And what, drag me to a magistrate and parade an endless line of illiterate Chinamen before him as your witnesses of what I've done here?" Green snorted, "I wish you luck in trusting that anyone'll listen you, disgraced as you are, or her or them. It'll be nothing but a waste of time. I'll go free, you'll go to prison, they'll go back to their miserable lives, and what will your little theatric performance here have accomplished except a delay of the inevitable?"

"We'll not ask again," John held the back of Green's neck and kept the barrel of his gun on Green's chest. "Where is the gold?"

"I'm moving it in the morning." Green shrugged, "So I put it somewhere away from the blast so when my wagon pulls away there'll be none the wiser as to whether I played a part in any of this."

"And what about your friend Barrow?"

"The Major's part is played."

"But was his part paid?" Green's eye twitched and John gave a little laugh of his own. "You've not told him you plan to cut him out of it all?"

"It'd make it inconvenient if I have to go all the way to Beijing to try and deliver a cut of what he's not earned."

"He'll say differently."

"He'll know nothing about it." Green held his head high. "He'll march his platoon down here to investigate the explosions, find nothing but the remains of our work and no trace of me."

"You don't think he'll track you down?"

"We both know he's a shit soldier and he's got no skills in tracking." Green shook his head, "I'll be safe."

"And your gold, where would you keep that safe?" Anna's barrel moved away from his neck and Green shifted under John's hold to look at her.

"It's almost as if you've both made that your touchstone, to keep you focused in this ridiculous interrogation."

Anna brought her gun up, "I won't ask again."

"Then I hope you'll learn to be disappointed." Green stared at her, "Imagine what'll happen to you when all this is over. When your… cripple, here, is in irons again and the people you slaved so hard to save are nothing but dust in the wind. Dust either because they ran during your ludicrous rebellion or because I managed to finally rid the world of its-"

The sudden crack had John holding a limp neck in his hand and what remained of the skull of Mr. Alexander Green. He dropped it, stepping back in shock as Anna lowered her gun. A drip started from the far wall and John only glanced for a moment between it and the soaking sheets under Green's limp body. In the next moment he turned to Anna and watched as she lowered her gun, the barrel still smoking slightly.

"I hope I didn't offend your sensibilities."

"I…" John swallowed, "We didn't find out where he's got the gold."

"There's only two places to look." Anna stamped her foot on the floor, testing the boards under them. "Either it's here or he's hidden it somewhere close by. Somewhere he can access a main road but won't get caught in the blast. Somewhere… Somewhere close but not too close…"

"Anna?"

She nodded toward the back door, "We'll need lanterns for this."

John managed to get the strap of the gun over his back before taking two of the lanterns hanging from Green's ceiling. Anna took one and they left the back of the cabin and the remains inside. With her lantern lifted as high as she could manage, Anna led the way down the back paths toward the lake where John first saw Anna naked. To the falls where…

In the cold, the lake had frozen over, solid and creaking as the waterfall in the distance still ran. Shards of ice and chunks of solid masses tumbled down to break through the ice formed around the waterfall but otherwise the lake was silent. Anna pointed to the back of the falls and John noticed tracks over the ice.

"That's where he'd hide it."

"There's no way to get an oxcart back here. Not for the gold."

"We're assuming he was going to take an ox over the ice." Anna tested it with her foot before shaking her head, "Only an idiot would try that."

"Then how are you so sure he'd keep it there."

"Because the far bank," Anna pointed and with the darkness it was almost impossible to see the far side of the water. "The entrance kisses the shore. He could manage it. Slowly and carefully but if he had help then…"

"He'd intend to kill them, you know. So he wouldn't have to share."

"A man not willing to share with those he might've called friend was never going to share with the help." John sighed, his breath clouding. "Let's get back. We can tell Mr. Ke where the gold is and he'll work out how to get it out of there. I'm not swimming for it and I don't care if they ever find it."

"You don't?"

John paused, shrugging. "In a way, yes. I want them to take it and make better lives for themselves. They've earned it. Them and every body in that pit we'll never be able to identify or remember or tell their families about. But, at the same time, it's poisoned. Poisoned like the arsenic they used to pull it from the stone or the blood they harvested in the process. The best thing for this mine and its treasures are for them to bury under a heap of rock so thick and deep no one wants to try retrieving it. So no one remembers it's even here."

Anna nodded and then shook her head. "That's not our decision."

"Thank whatever gods they believe in here for that." John offered her his hand. "Let's go back. I've had enough of the cold for one night."

"John…" Anna's fingers landed on his for a second. "What happened…"

"You warned me what you wanted and I promised I'd help you do it."

"But…" Anna shook her head, as if trying to clear away a pestering fly. "It wasn't… I didn't… I didn't want to kill him."

"What?"

"I planned… I planned that we'd go in there, we'd wrangle the location of his hoard from him, and then we'd leave him alive. We'd tie him up and leave him for the British Army to handle when they have to deal with Barrow and whatever others they find in this fetid pit. But when he threatened them, when he said… I couldn't let him do it. I wouldn't take that chance, not on their lives."

"I'm sure the only thing keeping me from doing the exact same thing to Barrow is that I need him to clear me of Carlisle's murder." John shrugged, and took Anna's fingers in his again. "You'll get no judgment from me."

"None?"

"Except…" John bit his lip, "Where did you learn to shoot like that?"

"It wasn't hard." Anna kept her lips thin, "I just pointed."

With Green's death, the mine fell easily. Many of those who remained wanted only to leave and return to their homes and families, wherever they may be, and Mr. Ke and Mrs. He organized the departures. As Anna suspected, they found Green's sequestered gold behind the waterfall and with the work of a few of the brave and strong souls, they dragged it all back to camp about the same time as all the charges were recovered and the lines coiled from the mines.

John stayed out of the accounting of the money, trusting the elders of the mines to divvy up the spoils fairly to all those departing for their futures far from the Hell that became their home. He watched them go in twos and threes, wending their way out of the valleys formed by their work picking diligently at the stone. And when he could not take that further, he joined the efforts in moving the bodies from the pit and into the mines.

The burial, such as it would be, proved enough to allow a collection of individuals- including Anna, Mrs. He, and Mr. Ke- to identify the dead. Their names were taken with whatever details could be remembered of them so that some effort to return the memory of their lives to their families could be made. And when they no longer filled the pit, John helped light the two fuses. He stood back with those who remained to watch the mines blow in a spectacular display of pyrotechnics only matched by the pit's wall collapsing to allow the old burial ground swallowed by water from the much shallower lake.

Branson joined them a day later, his report carrying the news they feared. The British Army in Beijing had heard reports of the explosion, timed against the traditional fireworks of the holiday, and had sent a platoon of soldiers with Barrow at their head to investigate. And, given their speed, it would take them no time at all to reach them.

"Come for his gold I expect, afraid Green's run off with it." John turned to Anna. "Would it be too gruesome and unsporting if we simply hung Green's body from a pole in their wake so he knew what happened?"

"It would send a message." Anna sighed, "But no. I've no interest to do anything with Green's body but burn it and his cabin. We've already stripped it of whatever was valuable to give to those who left. It's worthless now."

John turned to Branson, "I'll assume you'll not stay for the second batch of excitement then?"

"I heard your first was such a rousing round of success that I don't intend to jinx a second with my presence." Branson nodded toward the mess. "I'll take some kip, a rest, and then be on my way in the morning. Back to Qingdao to wait for word on the British Army we actually want here. Or… what's left of here."

As their little group dispersed, John turned to Anna and ushered her into her old tent, still laid out as she left it. "I want you to go back to Qingdao with Branson."

"What? Why?"

"You've killed Green and there's nothing left here but to wait." John shrugged, "It'll be a standoff and there's no need for a nurse in that."

"Mrs. He is staying."

"Mrs. He's not my wife." Anna blinked at him and John shrugged, "I want you safe and… Your part in this is done. The rest is mine to handle."

"Because Barrow's yours?" John nodded and Anna hung her head. "I'm not a bad shot you know."

"We don't have enough shot even if all of us could take out a squirrel's eye at a hundred yards." John reached for her hand and Anna took it. "It's not because I think you're weak or because I don't want you by my side always. I just…"

"You don't want me in the crossfire and you'd hate for Barrow to use me as a weapon in the dramatic conclusion to your personal showdown with him."

John nodded, "It might be the stuff of penny dreadfuls but if he managed to get ahold of you… I don't know what I'd do."

"Save me, like they do in a penny dreadful."

"And if I was slow or late?" John tapped his right leg. "We both know this isn't exactly the most reliable of limbs. And even if I'd give my left arm to save you-"

"We wouldn't want you wobbling at both ends, would we?" Anna teased and John gave her a smile. "Besides, if you're going to fight him you need your left arm."

"I do." John's fingers caressed her forehead as he pushed a strand of hair away from her skin. "And I promised that I'd protect you."

"I promised to stand with you for better or worse."

"And I want you to stand in a place that's better in case of the worst." John put his forehead to hers, "Go with Branson and bring the Army. Just… Just be safe and away from here."

"On one condition." Anna took his hands in hers and John opened his eyes to look at her. "That you'll not leave me empty before I go. That you'll stay here with me tonight. That you'll love me until I can't remember that I'm leaving you in the morning. That'll you'll love me so well that no matter whatever else happens I'll always have this. I'll have you."

So he did.

The first time they had not even removed all their layers, desperate as Anna was to feel John and have him close. The pole that held her tent aloft proved just stable enough for him to enter her. For him to hold her up and close despite the complaints of his knee until she finished. It dragged him over the edge, the fear in her voice when she gave her request and the lilt to her voice as she wrapped her legs around his hips. The same way her walls wrapped about him.

When the pole complained, moving a smidge so John could not hurry them to the floor fast enough. The same floor where he removes the rest of their clothing to expose her to him in the dusky light. Her stove proved far more reliable than the one in their dingy hotel room the night of the European New Year. The night of their wedding, and it proved warm enough to leave Anna's skin almost toasty to the touch when John buried his head between her legs. He did not bury anything else between her legs until she cried out twice. Then he did not stop until she shattered around him again.

They only rested for a moment, Anna's fingers clutching at John's skin to keep him close. To hold him in place when she mounted him. To stop him moving when she wrapped her mouth around him until she was ready to sheath him. To clutch his chest when she rode him mercilessly so he cried out and almost sobbed his finish before she even hitched her breathing for hers.

John wrapped himself around her then, carefully kissing over the scars she showed him in confidence so long ago. The scars that represented the suffering they endured. The scars that looked nothing like his own and yet held all the same emotions his did. The scars that led him to lift her leg and move against her slowly until they merely rolled through a climax together before sighing into sleep.

But fear did not let them sleep. It had Anna twitching and pulling in his arms, crying her silent tears over his skin as she explored his scars and wounds, memorizing them with fingers and tongue before she pulled him over her. Before she urged him inside her so she could hold to him as if she would never let go. Or not let go until exhaustion forced them apart. John snuggled her close as Anna's tears continued until she finally breathed easily against him in her sleep.

In the gray of the morning, the camp barely waking around them, Anna kissed John. Kissed him hard and urged him toward her. John stopped her, kissing over the furrows of confusion marring the skin of her forehead. "You've worn me out. I… I can't."

"I'm sorry." Anna tried to duck her head but John shook his, hands smoothing over her skin to sneak between her legs.

"I'm not." John's fingers delicately stroked over her. "I can still leave you satisfied, even if you left me beyond satisfied."

"You never leave me anything less than satisfied." Anna sighed into him, her leg moving over his hip so his fingers could move deeper. "I just… I want you to promise me you'll-"

"Come back for you?"

"No," Anna's hands held his face and John paused the motions of his fingers, "To fight and win. To beat that bastard until he's nothing but a shadow and a bad taste in our mouth at the hint of a memory of him. To make sure this place never haunts us again. However you manage that… I want that promise from you."

John bent his head, sucking hard at Anna's breast until she cried out, and drove his fingers deeper. "I promise."

Between the efforts of his fingers and mouth between her legs and her breasts, Anna came. Louder, perhaps, than the night before, but the tears were fewer and John rocked her through those as he did through the last traces of her orgasm. The one that left her almost too boneless to leave.

But she had to leave and after their lukewarm baths, Anna climbed onto the back of the horse Branson rode to their camp. John held her fingers, kissing them a final time, and stepped back as Branson turned the horse. He watched them as they rode away and gazed in that direction until even the hint of them on the horizon was nothing but a dream.

Then he turned to those who were left and nodded at them. "Best prepare, shall we? We've got guests coming and we wouldn't want to disappoint them."


	21. Obligation to Be Good

Another shot sent a blast of dust over John's head and he slid further down, wincing as the rock beside him all but exploded as another round blasted near his position. Mr. Ke, rolled close by, shouted something at John but he could hear nothing over the noise, the smoke, and the fury. The fury of the shelling and shots they received nonstop since John sent Green's practically decapitated body in response to Barrow's messenger about surrender.

A momentary lull in the shelling gave John the opening he needed to scramble sideways like a crab to Mr. Ke's position and shuffle them both down the side of the ridge and deeper into the valley. The charges left over from their makeshift burial caves proved useful in stopping Barrow's approach, creating the blockades needed to give John's smaller and far less armed forces the infinitesimal advantage they needed to hold their position. But with their ammunition almost non-existent and their food running dangerously low, John collapsed with his back to the rocks and wondered how he could ever answer to Anna in Heaven about breaking his promise to her.

He closed his eyes, imaging her the night they were married. Dressed in nothing but worn clothes, her hair functional instead of fashionable, and the coat bundled about her in a desperate attempt to keep any heat. John opened his eyes with that image still on his brain and reached for a gun.

But everything stopped. The shelling, the shots, the continuous and never-ending battery of missiles launched at their position simply ceased. He examined the faces of those with him, those not collapsed from exhaustion and hunger who held to their weapons with emaciated fingers to match their gaunt faces. None of them held any answers and John hauled himself back up the ridge to peek over the edge. The sight there left him in tears.

General Crawley, grimacing at Branson's presence at his side, marched up the ridge while Barrow's men placed their weapons slowly on the ground. John managed to get himself over the edge, sliding and tripping as his limbs refused to work well enough to coordinate with his intentions. It only took a moment and then his body slumped into General Crawley's arms and he sobbed with relief.

Between Branson and General Crawley, John managed to get to the ground and tried to control his tears with misaimed wipes with the back of his grimy hand. "I'm sorry sir. This display much make you feel so embarrassed."

"No, Bates." General Crawley put a hand to his shoulder, "I know the feeling and you're allowed to express whatever you will."

John nodded and turned to Branson, his hand clutching into the man's sleeve. "Anna? Is she-"

"She's not here John." Branson's teeth grated together. "When we got to Qingdao her cousin was waiting for her. Took her back to Hong Kong to handle some family matters. Something about her grandmother."

John's fingers relaxed and he almost lost all hold on Branson but the other mand grabbed his hand. "It's not all bad, mate. Your little marriage, at New Year, it's official. The paperwork's all been filed and you're legally and lawfully wed." He shoved at John's shoulder, almost knocking him over. "Cheeky, not inviting me."

"Spur of the moment." John used his leverage on Branson to stand, facing General Crawley again. "I've men down there in need of food, sleep, and medical attention if you can spare it."

"We'll get them all to Qingdao and then to Beijing, soon as we can manage it." General Crawley looked round. "Not sure if I should ask, in your condition, but care to show me the proof you claimed to have about this place? We've already diverted enough soldiers from the Boxer Rebellion in Beijing and that's how I got my men here in the first place."

"Do you have Barrow?" John tried to look back but the swath of redcoats masked any indication of his presence.

"He was the one who greeted me." General Crawley snorted, "It was a pleasure to have him clapped in irons, as it were, and I look forward to interrogating him more fully when we're in Beijing."

"Then it's over?"

"Yes, Bates." General Crawley gripped John's elbows, whether to keep him standing or to give comfort it truly did not matter. "It's over."

The remaining miners disbanded, taking their share of the gold and whatever else they wanted with them as they returned home. Each offered a statement to accompany the list of dead John then showed to General Crawley through the clefts of the rock where they buried them. Combine with the inability for any of the men from Beijing to explain why Barrow marched them south, General Crawley took command of their platoon and marched them back north with John, Mr. Ke, and Mrs. He as the only remaining evidences that the mine ever existed. Especially since Mrs. He saved enough of the ordinance she pilfered from the British Army to blow the rest of it to leave nothing but a smoking crater in their wake. General Crawley pretended not to notice.

John took one of the rooms at the garrison, sleeping for the better part of two days before Branson took responsibility of spoon feeding him until he could be trusted not to stuff himself until his shrunken stomach forced him to vomit. But once he could eat, walk, and move as if he was himself again, John sent a cable to Hong Kong. The only response he received, signed in the name of Charles Blake, was a request to leave family matters to family.

So John wrote letters. One for every day of the interminable investigation that finally revealed the extent of Barrow's work, with the help of Anna's testimony. One written in response to General Crawley's request while none of John's letters received a single note. And when the third week passed without a single letter, John threw himself into helping General Crawley.

Branson went back to Hong Kong, laden with letters from John to Anna, and promised to give him what news he could. It took less than a week for Branson to paint a bleak picture of the intercontinental battle waging between Anna and her grandmother in England with her cousin- the Mr. Blake of the telegram- caught in the middle as he acted messenger between the two women with tempestuous attitudes toward one another. John only sent news back to have Branson act as the delivery man for the letters and hope they could give comfort to Anna in her time of suffering when he was too far away.

A situation he resolved to change.

Spring was dawning, a fight of warmth against the chill mornings and nights but with thawing frosts in the afternoons, and John finally took a chance to speak with General Crawley. The barren office, holding none of the decorations Colonel Carlisle had preferred or the ostentatious displays inherent to Barrow, spoke to the autserity of General Crawley's crackdown on the situation and forced John to swallow. But he took his seat on the other side of the desk as the General dismissed his aide and faced John.

"Here about Barrow's trial?"

"Would it be odd to say that I don't care about him any longer?" John sighed, "He's for the gallows. The only thing waiting is for whatever patrons he had, who hid him this long, to surrender to the horrible truth that he's a liability. Once they do then he's for the gallows. I've no arguments with that."

"You don't want your pound of flesh."

"I did, once, but I've seen enough death and suffering." John's whole body sagged in his chair. "There comes a time when there's nothing you can do but turn around and move on."

"Wise words." General Crawley fiddled with his pen for a moment. "But I was hoping I could impress upon you the need I have for a man here I can trust."

"Sir?"

"Given Barrow's multitude of confessions, I've no choice but to assume the entire structure here is compromised. It's why I've been working to get as many of the men here transferred to different climes as soon as possible. Get all the bad eggs out of this basket."

"And leave them for someone else, sir?"

"Get them the beatings they require or the discipline they need." General Crawley shook his head. "Anyone put in charge of this place with those men would be fighting a losing battle. They'd be fighting against the inbred loyalty to a fallen man they believe framed. Moving them about, mixing up the pieces on the board, it's the only way to find peace. The good will out and the bad'll get themselves kicked out, when it comes to that."

"I'll assume you're not telling me this as a courtesy."

"No." General Crawley sighed, "I'm not sure what news Branson's snuck you from Hong Kong but Mary's been a little more forthcoming with me than I believe Lady Islington's been allowed to be with you."

"I suspect that's true."

"Then you're aware her grandmother's all but press-ganged her back to England. Kicking and screaming I'd imagine but she'll be there sorting out the battle-axe for longer than I believe I should admit."

"Do you know her grandmother, sir?"

"We're acquainted on a social level, being peers, but I've never taken to her." General Crawley shuddered, "She frightens me."

"I'm sorry sir."

"It's you I'm sorry for, if Branson's comment in Shandong was anything to go by." General Crawley nodded at John, "I'd keep my eye out for knives in the dark from that one."

"I'll keep that in mind sir."

"Then, perhaps, you'd accept a bit of protection in that regard?"

"Sir?"

General Crawley nodded at the office. "I've already said I need someone I can trust here. I need you, John, to take Carlisle's old position."

"Sir-"

"Barrow's confession clears you and with your performance at the mine, your fortitude among other things, I've already received the permission for your promotion to go along with the expunging of your record."

"Simple as that, sir?"

"It would've been simpler had you produced the gold from the mine but, as I understand it, all the gold was lost in the cave in that buried the whole thing. Lost forever, was it?"

John gave a little smile in answer to General Crawley's wink. "Yes sir, irretrievable."

"Pity." General Crawley sighed, "But the offer, Bates, stands."

"And you recommend I take it, sir?"

"Abso-bloody-lutely I do." General Crawley leaned back in his chair. "The rank of colonel here, in Beijing, is only a step away from being a General in Hong Kong. Even Lady Islington's grandmother could hardly argue with that."

"The position of General in Hong Kong, sir, is already taken by the same soldier who oversaw the end of the Boxer Rebellion here."

General Crawley waved a hand, "We both know I did practically nothing."

"All the same sir."

"Here's what's the same, Bates," General Crawley straightened his uniform. "I'm retiring. My daughters have all found their various places in Hong Kong but my wife wants to go back to England, to be closer to her mother in America, and I've found myself missing home."

"There is only so much rice you can eat in a single sitting, sir."

"Right." General Crawley sighed. "If you don't take the position, Bates, I'll have to hand it over to someone I don't trust and leave this city in hands that might be soaked in more bloody and bribery than Barrow's and I'm not willing to risk that. Not when there's so much at stake for the Empire at this juncture."

"Perhaps it would be best for everyone if the Empire ceased to exist, as we know it." John chewed the inside of his cheek, "But seeing as I've no other occupation at the moment and my wife's been whisked away to, in all likelihood, be forced into an annulment, I'll take the offer. I'll take the colonel-ship here."

"You've saved me, Bates."

"It's a pleasure to return the favor." John shook General Crawley's extended hand and then they stood to salute one another. "I'll insist you finish with your transfers before I begin. And… Barrow's trial should finish as well."

"That I can manage."

By the end of summer John was fully invested as a colonel in the British Army, General Crawley returned to Hong Kong, and Barrow faced his court martial in England. John last saw the man, wrists bound to a rope that kept his feet chained together so he could not run, shuffled onto a ship. Their eyes met and John realized he felt nothing for a man who was nothing to him.

News from Anna proved difficult to obtain. A telegram of congratulations on his position and the promotion it entailed was all she was allowed, the note bearing the signature of her cousin again. Even Branson's search and investigation through his channels of communication- advanced given his opening of a private investigation service with the recommendation of a colonel and a general- led to nothing more than a stalemate between Anna and the Grand Duchess of Stratling and Dixon. A stalemate that left John no choice but to continue in his position.

But a year to the day of his promotion, John received news of General Crawley's retirement and a command to take his position from Beijing to Hong Kong. He traveled there in a week by boat, most of his nights spent remembering the last time he traveled to Hong Kong by boat, and arrived ready to report to the Army offices. The interviews and official procedures quickly saw him invested with General Crawley's rank and the subtle hint that the British Government would not be long for Hong Kong as Asia had lost much of its appeal with the advance of the Japanese. The Boxer Rebellion, following on the heels of the Opium Wars, proved to the British Empire how little they needed to care about China and John took General Crawley's command under the stipulation that he would soon be receiving all the British soldiers from the north before they were sent to other postings.

It proved busy and mindless work that drove most thoughts of Anna from his mind. But the occasional lunch with Branson and the final party to celebrate General Crawley's retirement brought Anna back to his mind. When he lost himself in thought, John would shake himself back to reality always noting the way the thumb of his left hand stroked his empty ring finger. The same finger he never managed to fill for Anna, despite their vows.

Once things calmed down, shortly after the New Year, John realized he survived almost two years without Anna. With barely a word from her or any kind of communication bearing her signature or beautiful script. Except the second note of congratulations on his position in Hong Kong, she proved just as silent in the second year as she had in the first. And it was, with a heavy heart, that John contemplated the reality that perhaps what he owed to his wife was to let her go and find another man, a better one.

Branson tried to dissuade him, warned most of the solicitors and lawyers in the city away from him, but John managed to find one willing to investigate into the case. The fact that it was Lady Mary's husband only made Branson bristle and John almost took back the request at Lady Mary's almost preening response to the inquiry. But when Matthew Crawley claimed to have something he insisted they discuss it at a public function to celebrate the opening of a new hospital in Hong Kong while serving as a fundraiser for the venture.

John grudgingly agreed, encouraged by Branson to represent his military bearing and perhaps put in a good word for him with Sybil Crawley, the head nurse of the new hospital. With Branson's necessity in mind it was far easier to bend himself to the possibility of going and John presented his invitation dressed in his best uniform when the car stopped in front of the building. A uniform that drew a few looks from some of the prettier ladies in the room as John moved to join Branson and a dark haired woman with the kindest eyes John had ever seen.

"John, this is Sybil. Sybil this is General John Bates."

"My father's spoken very highly of you." Sybil extended her hand and John kissed the back of it. "Says you're the best of men."

"I'm not sure about that but I've him to thank for a rather volcanic rise in the past two years. Something I never would've expected."

"Not when two years before that you were drinking yourself into an early grave in Beijing." Branson jabbed, taking a sip of his drink as John shrugged it off. "Tell me, did you ever find out what happened to your ex-wife."

"Returned to Ireland after Carlisle's death. I've no idea what happened to her after that." John passed on the chance for a drink from a passing waiter before pointing to the building around them. "This hospital went up rather quickly, didn't it? I don't remember it even being under construction the last time I was in Hong Kong and that wasn't so long ago."

"Normally trying to get anything done in this city's almost impossible with the levels of bureaucracy but when you've more money than the Queen to throw about they make exceptions for you." Sybil waved her hand at someone behind John. "But it's a miracle for the city and it'll let us do more for the community."

"I should hope so." Branson said and then almost choked into his drink. John went to slap his back when he saw the person Sybil signaled to from the other end of the room. His jaw dropped and he barely missed knocking his hand upside Branson's head in his surprise.

"Anna."

"Hello John." She pointed at Branson, "I think he's alright."

John drew his hand back quickly, massaging it for something to do as Branson heaved for breath. "You're here."

"So are you." She smiled at him before nodding at his uniform. "You were right, you look far more dashing in that than you did in white tie."

"It fits better too." John pulled at his fingers and then scanned the room. "I was supposed to meet Matthew Crawley here but-"

"He's not coming tonight." Anna winced, "I… I rather roped him into my cause. I was afraid if I told Mary what I had planned she might've put a stop to it. And when Matthew told me why you contacted him…"

John bit at his lip, head hanging slightly. "I didn't think you were ever coming back. I thought…"

"Thought that I'd already thrown you over?" Anna nodded, "I can understand your worry. But it's… It wasn't that. Not at all."

"Then…" John stopped, noting Branson and Sybil, "Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere else?"

"I know a place." Anna led him away from the party and up a few floors to a line of offices. She entered one and flicked a switch to enable the electric lights. "I hope this is private enough."

"A little scandalous, isn't it?"

"Not for a married woman and her husband."

John gaped, swallowing hard. "Then you've not-"

"My grandmother tried to get me to annul it. Used every weapon at her disposal to do so but she rather underestimated my mettle." Anna shrugged, "I don't think she ever fully understood what we endured in Shandong."

"But you didn't write me."

"Charles was under strict orders to monitor my communications and while I wanted to sneak something to Mary I was afraid she'd burn it." Anna pulled at her fingers, "She never did like you the way I wished she would."

"I think she thought my lack of recognition for your position was insulting to your class."

"Like I gave two shits about my class."

John snorted a laugh, "Not the language of a lady."

"Then it's a good thing I've never pretended to be one." Anna smiled at him, reaching for his hand and running her thumb over the same finger he rubbed constantly when he thought of her. "You never got a ring?"

"It wouldn't feel right unless I could give one to you as well."

"I understand." Anna drew closer to him, folding their arms between them. "I didn't write you because I didn't want to give them the power to ruin you."

"The only ruin I recognized was to be without you." John let his fingers trace the familiar line of her cheek. Different now that it was fuller with good feeding. "I feared you'd gone off and dreamed of a better man."

"I couldn't." Anna shook her head, "There aren't any."

John sighed and reached a hand to the back of Anna's neck to hold her still when he kissed her forehead before placing his on hers. "I've missed you. To my bones and soul I've missed you. I haven't lived with you."

"Nor I." Anna clutched his hand in hers, her other hand flattening on his chest. "I came back here because I took your advice."

"What?" John drew back to look at her face. "What do you mean?"

"I gave it all up. The title, most of the money…" Anna snorted, "My grandmother was pleased with it, thinking I'd sullied the family name, until my cousin turned on her at the last moment. Gave me back my entire inheritance and let me keep my title before writing it into his will that my child'll inherit the title."

"What?"

"How do you think I built this hospital so quickly?" Anna let her fingers run over his jaw. "This is where I belong, with you. This is where I'll stay. This is where we'll raise our children."

"Children?" John grinned, covering her hand with his and kissing it despite the material of her glove stopping contact with her skin. "How many do you want?"

"We've already got one so…" Anna paused, "Not how I wanted to tell you."

"We've…"

Anna nodded, "It's why I was away so long. When I got to England I knew. I suspected, in Hong Kong, but then I delivered and…" She took his hands in hers. "He's a beautiful boy John. He's got your hair and my eyes. He's… He's gorgeous."

"What's his name?"

"John Charles Bates." Anna smiled, "The middles name's for my cousin."

"Given what he's done for us I'm not against it." John paused, "But what about his own children, if he has them. Won't they inherit his title?"

"He'll not have any children." Anna shook his head, "The one woman he loved died and he's… He'll not marry. Hence my grandmother's fury."

"I can understand, in a way."

John paused but Anna caught it, "What is it?"

"Is he here? In Hong Kong, I mean."

"He's in England. He's so young and I didn't want to risk the crossing with him." Anna bit at her lip, "But when you get leave we'll go back and see him."

"Yes, the moment I do."

"Good." Anna smiled again, "I want him to meet his father."

"And I want to meet him." John hugged Anna close to him, tears running from his eyes faster than he could think about stopping them. "You've made me so happy Anna. I'm a father and I've a son."

"Yes." Anna pulled back, kissing both of his cheeks as if to chase the tears there. "And we'll be here, with you. I'll work here doing work that's fulfilling and wonderful and we'll raise our children together."

"Yes." John moved them back until Anna's ass impacted gently on the desk in the little office. "Keep going."

"You'll continue doing your good work here and play in the garden with our children in the evening." Anna's breath hitched when John moved her onto the desk and spread her legs to move the skirt of her dress out of the way. "And I'll read your letters to me every day. The little notes you'll leave me when you leave for the day or that you'll send me throughout the day or hide around the house for me to find."

"Around our house."

"Yes, our house." Anna held to his shoulders when John's fingers teased around her knickers before stripping them down her legs. "The house we'll build together. The house that'll be ours, away from the world. A place of peace and safety and serenity and-"

"Yes." John's fingers entered her just as their lips met.

He moved vigorously, the tortuously tight cling of her around his fingers forcing him to try and hold back as the sensations aroused him as much as Anna's seizure of their kiss. Her fingers struggled over him, crunching into his uniform to hold herself steady as her hips rolled and bucked onto him until she came. Then it was only a matter of moving enough fabric out of the way to bring them together.

Her forehead rested on her shoulder when they held together, John embracing Anna as close to his body as he could manage. It was not until her legs wrapped more fully around him and Anna angled her hips up that John moved. Moved quickly was all the primal desire of abstinence and the desperation of loneliness he could manage until they both came in a rush. One that left him sagging over her, hands clutching to the desk, as Anna held tightly to his shoulders to stop herself falling back.

"I'm sorry." John whispered in her ear, "That was… Very unromantic and demanding and I assumed-"

Anna silenced him with a hard kiss, holding to him for a moment before pulling back to look in his eyes. "No. That was perfect."

"It wasn't-"

"We have time now, John." Anna kept her hands on his cheeks, keeping them close. "We've nothing but time now."

John closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. "It's all real. I've been thinking it's a dream but it's all real."

"Yes." Anna's hands stroked down his face before she unfolded herself from around him and John stepped back to allow her off the desk. "And we've got a party to get back to before anyone notices the hostess is missing."

"Invite me to more of your parties and you'll go missing from all of them."

Anna blushed slightly as she went to sort herself, "You'll make me come over all insensible if you keep talking like that General."

"I plan to." John snatched her knickers before she could get them. "I hope you don't mind if I'm not quite done with you."

"You're not."

"No." John shook his head and ducked to the floor to move Anna's dress over him. "Not even close."

Anna's hand gripped his head through the material of her dress and her leg held tightly to his shoulder as John ran his tongue over her. Between his tongue and his fingers it was almost no time at all before she came in a rush above him. A rush that John drank from her as he tasted them there before the flush of her filled his mouth. He did not emerge until Anna urged him to and then followed her to the wall.

But when he moved to lift her against it, Anna turned and pulled his arm across her body. "Like that night, in the tent. When you let me feel free."

John put his mouth near Anna's ear while one hand managed a gentle knead of her breasts through her unforgiving corset and dress as the other lifted her skirts out of the way. "I plan to relive every time. We'll do them all over again, as new people. As free people living in a new world. As the people we want to be."

"Yes." Anna's hand covered his at her breast, forcing him harder until John finally entered her.

The cry she tried to bury in the back of her hand only increased John's pace until neither of them could stand it. Finesse was no longer and they were nothing but two creatures pushing and pulling at one another in the midst of the punishing pound of their bodies to the echo of skin slapping with determination and single-minded purpose. The kind of purpose that left John sagging against Anna as the last of her hollow moans escaped in time with the last dregs of how they rode out their finish together.

When John extracted himself from Anna this time, carefully taking a handkerchief to her in an attempt to address the mess he left over them before replacing her knickers, they endeavored to return to the party. Their appearances restored enough for the untrained eye and the hopes that their descent might mask the scent of their activities gave them the courage to face the room waiting below. But what stopped John's heart was Anna pulling something from the folds of her dress and opening the box before him.

"It's traditional that the man select the rings but this was my father's ring and I had a jeweler make a matching set for me." Anna pointed to them, "The engagement ring and wedding band."

John dragged a finger over them before nodding, "They're perfect."

"I hoped so." Anna took his hand and slid the ring to its proper place before kissing it. "So you're no longer naked."

John repeated the action with her rings and tucked the box into his pocket. "And the same goes for you, Mrs. Bates."

Anna shivered, "I do rather like that name."

"Good," John bent down, putting his mouth close to her ear, "Because I plan on using it tonight when those rings are all you're wearing and you're all I'm wearing in a bed we're going to call our own."

The breathing groan she gave him as an answer had John tugging slightly at his trousers. "Can't we just go now?"

"You're the hostess," John drew back, "That's up to you."

Anna only grinned, "Sod them all and take me home, Mr. Bates."

"My pleasure."

"Oh," Anna raised her eyebrows, flicking her gaze toward his trousers, "I rather think it'll be mine."

"Many times over, if I have my way."

"I'll not stop you."

John kissed her, "Then let's begin the rest of our lives together."

"Yes, let's."


	22. Epilogue: The Price Paid for Peace

He paced outside the room, holding his hat in his hand while the ceremonial sword at his side bumped and clanked. Wrestling it a moment, he sat on the seat beside the door and rested his head against the wall. Within a minute his foot was on his toe and bouncing his knee hard enough to rattle the sword at his side.

"You'll have to stop that." He turned and stood in a hurry to greet the man stepping out of the door. "You'll make her more nervous than she already is."

"She's nervous?" He snorted, "I'm meeting her grandmother who, remember, tried to get our marriage annulled and you to disown her if she disobeyed."

"Our grandmother never really understood Anna very well." The other man smiled, "But she did have a slight change of heart at the sign of an heir to her massive fortune and titles."

"I'm sure that did the trick."

"For someone who's spent so much time in China I'd expect you to better understand the idea of filial piety and the continuation of a line."

"Given that my parents passed when I was young, I never really had anyone to be filial to." He sighed, "How nervous is she?"

The other man jerked his head toward the door, "She'd like a word." He hurried to the door, his hand on it, when the man stopped him. "John, it's not because she doesn't want to marry you, in case you were nervous."

"We're already married Mr. Blake."

Blake cringed, "I'd rather you called me Charles, I'd feel a bit less old or distant from you. I'm Anna's cousin after all."

John did not respond and turned the knob to go into the room. The sight of Anna, laying back on a sofa with her eyes closed had John at her side in a moment. It took another moment to wrestle himself free of the sword at his side and take her hands but the sound and his touch brought her eyes opening to his presence.

"Charles told you I was feeling nervous?"

"I was pacing the corridor."

"I could hear." Anna smiled at him, reaching a hand over to stroke his cheek. "I'm not nervous about marrying you, just in case you were worried."

"Charles said as much." John paused, "But we're already married so this is really just formality for all those worried they missed something the first time."

"Us looking our worst past midnight in a tiny little chapel?" Anna smiled, her hand dropping to settle on his chest. "I'm nervous I won't make it up the aisle."

"Are you ill?"

"No more ill than I was when…" Anna smiled and dragged John's hands to her abdomen. "We're going to have another baby, John."

His hands almost shook in place as he gently caressed the fabric of Anna's dress, the first of many layers separating him from the evidence of their child. A child he would see born and hold while still wrapped in swaddling. A child who would not need to be the tipping point for a vengeful old woman.

"John?" He looked up at Anna's face, "Are you alright?"

"How could I not be?" He kissed her and then bent to kiss at her abdomen, material separating him be damned. "This is the best news."

"I just wanted you to know before…" Anna sighed, nodding to the door, "Before we have to parade ourselves out there as if it's what we wanted."

"I love seeing you in such a beautiful dress."

"And I love you in uniform but…" Anna shrugged, "It felt far more us in that tiny little chapel, away from the world."

"Some things we have to do for others." John helped her to stand and Anna aided him in securing his sword. "I could do without this though."

"It's a warning to my grandmother, should she attempt to stop this wedding." Anna kissed his cheek. "I think I'm ready to face them now."

"I don't think I am." John took her hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm. "But I'll face it with you."

Their second wedding flashed by faster than the first and with fewer memorable moments than their first. The guests were mostly strangers, the decorations extravagant, and the multiple course meal ostentatious. But John bore it all as the old woman, wearing a color bordering so close to white it told John everything he needed to know about the obnoxious display hijacked before them, continued to give her speeches and preen about her granddaughter.

Once it was over, John's feet aching as his leg bruised from the continual thumping of his sword against it, they rode from the department store they rented for its gathering hall back to their house. A house with a garden large enough for the feet that already toddled and waddled about the safety of the nursery. A nursery they visited with fingers over their mouths to the nanny.

John bent over the crib, watching their son as he twitched and jerked in his sleep. His fingers curled and his legs kicked as his body continued to learn the dynamics of his muscles with basic motions. Risking waking him, John bent over the bars to kiss the boy's head. He only whimpered slightly, calming the moment Anna's kiss replaced John's.

"I hope our next one takes to me a little more."

"He loves you."

"He cried for a week when I first held him."

"And now he runs to you when he's frightened." Anna pushed at John's arm, guiding them from the nursery. "He's a child and he'll know you as I do."

"I hope not that intimately."

Anna grinned, "Well, he'll know his father then."

"Good." John took Anna's hand, "May I propose that my wife and I take to our room in this lovely house of hers."

"No," Anna shook her head, her grin widening when John gawked at her. "I'll let you take me to our room in this lovely house of _ours_."

"Cheeky."

"Proudly." Anna squealed when John picked her up and took the short stride to their room, carrying her over the threshold. "Your knee."

"It's fine." John put her back on the floor, taking her hands to guide her slowly backward toward the bed. "And it'll be fine in a moment too."

"What do you-"

Before Anna could finish her question, John was under her skirts and drawing her knickers down her legs with his teeth as his hands flurried to remove her shoes and stockings. The hurry rewarded him with Anna's surprised gasps when he put his mouth on her, kissing slowly around her clit and down to her folds before running his tongue through them. Her fingers tried to reach his scalp through the layers of fabric but John remained immune to her grip as his hands held to her hips and teased and tormented Anna to the edge before sucking hard at her clit as his fingers buried themselves deeply inside her.

Her body shuddered and writhed as John emerged from under her skirts and it gave him the time he needed to remove their clothing. But he did not expect Anna to hold his shoulders when he tried to lean over her, or for her to jump into his arms. He staggered back, catching himself on the wall as Anna took control of his mouth, and barely pivoted to put Anna's back to the wall before she managed to sink herself on him.

The tug of her teeth on his ear had John grunting and bucking into her on instinct. "Two can play that game John."

"Gladly."

Anna's nails dug into his shoulders and back, raking there before one of her hands held firmly at his ass to maintain the angle she needed when her hips shifted against the wall. John followed her directions and the instructions she moaned in his ear about faster or deeper or harder or slower until his hands dug bruises into her thighs. A bend of his neck put his lips over her breasts and a few sucks between them and her neck brought Anna tightening to her finish around him. The tugging temptation had John falling over the edge with her, his weight pressed into her to keep them both upright against the wall.

After a moment he pulled back, slipping out as he helped Anna stand before him. His hands caressed her breasts before brushing over her abdomen. "Is the baby alright? We didn't-"

"The baby's fine." Anna's hands settled over his before tugging him toward the bed. "Come on, we'd better get some sleep."

"I thought you were going to have your way with me." John pulled back the covers and followed Anna's motions to lay around her. "But we've a child who'll be up with the dawn."

"As well as patients at a hospital as in need of attention as those new soldiers you're training to serve and not preen in their uniforms." Anna shifted to look at John, her fingers drawing down his chest. "I rather liked you in your uniform today, just so you're aware."

"I know the effect my uniform has on you."

"It was more about the effect it had on my grandmother." Anna sighed, "I'd like you however, whatever, and whenever."

"I know." John kissed her before lying back, pulling Anna to lay with him. "Because I love you however, whatever, and whenever."

"Forever and always?"

"Forever and always."


End file.
